


The Tinkerman

by Pandagirl23



Series: Intermission Stories of Enass AU [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes loves kids, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Harley Keener, Kid Peter Parker, M/M, Mages, Mages Guild, Maria Stark is Not Tony Stark's Mom, Mystery, Not Beta Read, Original Character(s), Protective Tony Stark, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Steve is kind of a dick, Sweet Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, Wanda is kind of a dick, kid fic sort of, magical transformations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:00:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 37,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29473614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandagirl23/pseuds/Pandagirl23
Summary: An Intermission Story of magic, technology, believing, and finding love.A curse forest, a corrupt king, and a simple librarian.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Series: Intermission Stories of Enass AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164896
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I had built up as an intermission story, so I hope you really like it.
> 
> I am doing this story as a way to take a break and avoid burn out of the current universe and letting it die. I don't want to let that universe die because I burned myself out. So these are little refreshing takes on these boys and characters.
> 
> As usual: If the story time period is confusing, please do start at Move in Day but for Tony’s quirks and issues, please start around Flare in the Dark and Tinker Wheels. If you just want to read the story, again enjoy!! 😊

Prologue

_Long ago, in a distant land, lived a royal family. The family was beloved by the kingdom and adored by other neighboring kingdoms. All rejoicing in the parents long desired for a child, being blessed by the heavens for the baby boy. The mother especially._

_The son grew and the family was rapturous at the growth of their son. Healthy. Smart. And joyous. Until one day… the son was gone._

_The son gone had replaced the joy with something of anguish and anger. Anguish from the mother seeped into the souls of the people. The anger of the king. The blame had to be on something? Not the heavens who blessed them with their child. Not the people who were overjoyed at the birthing of the son and an heir. No, someone must be the blame for taking the young child away._

_No one knew and no one can pinpoint it._

_Years passed, so did the mystery of the missing child. The years that grew to past, was the years the grew to show the anger in the king turned into the bitterness of growing power. The more the power showed the new happenings began._

_The forest that surrounded the once enjoyed kingdom now seems to be a curse. Those who lived there never left and those who visited seemingly forgotten why they came and never to leave. Some retain the memory of what lies beyond the woods. Others claim a powerful witch who cursed the land is the same who stole the baby boy from the still-grieving parents._

_Others say the aura of the king and queen is what cursed the land made those forget why they come or never go. Then there is the cause of the man in the woods._

_The man in the woods, who never enter the town, builds wonderous things. Things that the king himself would be jealous of. Tiny knick-knacks. Tiny toys for those to play with._

_Even the man seems to make things that seemingly help those entering and leaving, to remember. Remember why they entered and why they needed to leave. Return to where they came from._

_These tinkers are what helped those of lost memories regain them. A piece of a mind._

_The Tinkerman. The Tinkerman who has tiny tinkers that follow in the woods. The Tinkerman who has lights glimmering from his fingers and eyes. The Tinkerman and his tinkerwheels. Illuminating in the woods at night to fade in the day._

_The Tinkerman’s tinkerwheels that enter the town, barely with the remembrance of those to have seen them._

_The Tinkerman was being praised whispered so much, that the king himself, who has grown cold and despondent, rewoke. A fire of fury, jealousy would say, and so hot that he burned even his once radiant queen. Banned the word Tinkerman. Banned anyone from even hushing his name. His story. His help._

_Made his own tales, stories, of the man hurting the queen. Taking away her right to be happy. He was the one who had taken the baby from the home. The Tinkerwheels had entered the castle long ago, the use of magic stealing the babe in the dead of night._

_He made the guards forget as easily he is able to make others remember._

_Soon, instead of revered, the Tinkerman was feared. Anytime a Tinkertoy, trinket, or knick-knack was seen, it crushed or burned. Only those entering and going may hold on. The kids of the land, who lived and grow, lost their toys and soon their memories._

_Only those who have grown, who have kept the trinkets written the story of the Tinkerman. The tinkerwheels and the missing prince._

_Some say, to this day, the Tinkerman ghost haunts the woods. Some say, the king found the prince napper, the traitor to the land, the Tinkerman, and killed him in the dead of night. Others say, that this is all a legend, told to the children of the dangers of the magic or the people outside of the land._

_Others say, the king with all his immense power has turned over to the dark arts, the aura of the land tainted only made pure by the long-gone Tinkerman. His Tinkerwheels, only to be seen in the nights. Planting the rows of forget-me-nots, Ziannis, White Roses, and Asters. A path is hidden from the forest itself. Protection to keep the last beats of the Tinkerman alive, protection from the king's unholy chokehold on the land itself, to stop the kingdom from taking over others._


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

James, a young man of 24 years of age, smiled down at the kids sitting in front of him. The comfortable but raggedy flooring presenting the few comfy and sitting places for the kids themselves to enjoy. He closed the well-loved, worn book. A gear, that was illustrated on the cover, long rubbed almost of existence showing to the kids. The young librarian looked to the eye wide of kids who were holding bread, apples, and anything their parents could afford to give them. This comes the time of the summer months proved the hardest for the children and parents of the kingdom.

The kingdom was in what most would say a valley, so when it was cold, the winds dip bring in the frost, making the winters long and when the spring came, it came and gone quick. The hot and dry summer winds only being mitigated from the forest that circle the land. The natural apple trees that grew, the spring that flowed into the land thanks to the hot winds, but never leaving enough time for a good amount of wheat to grow in. So growing had to happen all year round if possible, despite the odds of things growing properly.

The kingdom makes due. How one James Buchanan Barnes makes due in the library, reading to school-age children. Children that were not of the upper class in the kingdom-that didn’t mean much, however. Even the Stones, Bains, Stanes, and Prieces have trouble getting an education for the kids.

James watches as two kids rose their hands and others looked at him with curiosity and disbelief.

“Is the story about our kingdom then? My ma told me this but differently. That the Tinkerman was a cruel wizard that cursed the king to be just a cruel and if I don’t behave he would make me cruel too.” One child asked, a tremor of fear falling his lips.

Another little girl spoke out too, “My papa said that the Tinkerman was an old wives tale to keep us behaved and listenin’ about the trouble wid magic.” As if her own father spoke the tale so many times and added in the parts of being all fake. All made up.

James smiled more, he adored this legend. A myth of their land, he enjoyed because he, himself the story was true to some point, “Well, the truth in this story, the king and queen did have a son. My mom said, he would have been a little younger than my age. About 3 years young. Twenty-one this year, old enough to take the throne. Yet, he was taken young and no one knows. So this part of the story is true. I believe so, but everything else… is a little farfetched. Right?” James chuckled a little watching the bout of nodding and shaking.

James also knew, if he kept telling the story about The Tinkerman he could be put to doing horse duty, farm duty, or worse, put back on the guard. Even thinking about being pout back in duty cause twinges all the way down his side. Pain radiating the most from his shoulder attached mooring. A tinker of an arm. Done by a wizard, Zola. Use to learn under the same mage as Erksine. Sir Erksine. Rumors have that even the king, who looked years younger than both wizards, learned under the same mage with the two of them. Anyhow, the bad accident had caused a strike on his arm, nerve damages to his left side, and left ribs shattered. He should have died. But the magic and metal had given a new chance of living. His father had given up almost every cent. Fortunately, the king was kind enough to pay for the damages. James was not sure what else happened, but there are days where he blacked during his time on duty and he was covered in blood. Those days were terrifying, he was only 18 when he woke the first time drenched in the blood of the land’s enemies that dared enter.

He left the ranks after that. Take in the calm setting of day-to-day jobs. Task that spoke of boredom but he adores it.

Boredom, that those from the ranks say is reading to children a fairytale of whimsical machinations. Maybe that is why he loves this story too because his own arm was that very whimsical machination of stories told to babes to put Heaven's fears into them or to fill them with hope. He almost feels, he is part of the last generation that truly believes that this story did happen. Is true.

Escorting the kids out, to their parents, telling them how well-behaved they all were. Thankful to the parents for watching and entertaining them. Allowing them to get coins for the next end-of-the-week markets. Aunt May, the kind seamstress giving a kind older smile. Miss Keener and her rowdy and so intelligent son her own gentle smile. A thank you and the question of same time next week.

James was all too excited to say yes. He got a new story, but the kids always request The Tinkerman story at least twice a month. A fun story. His own personal copy given from his ma. Bless her heart.

Stepping back inside the tiny library. Passing Natasha, who was writing her own book, a history really, at the desk. Red hair, down to her shoulders, and a seriously ticked showing on her face. Natasha, never liked when he got fictitious, filled the children of the kingdom stories with tales. Falsities. A type of joy that came from these stories he dived headfirst into. She wanted them to be ready for life. To understand not everything is a fairytale. Despite the magic that is across the lands, learned only by those willing to learn of the greatest of skills.

No, she was that of the caliber that should see in the guards and on duty. She was that type of woman, similar to Peggy Carter, one of the first women to lead himself and others into battles. Natasha never joined, unfortunately. Something about politics and her urge to kill someone for looking at her like she was a piece of meat. Valid. Violent but valid.

Still, he and she have arguments about his storytelling and what that would mean for him if it gets back to the king. Duties. Back in the line of fire. Or death. Death being last and him being exiled being second to last. James might leave anyway. He might… one day. Or never. No one left. Even the army never left far. Always kept the forest and high towers in view. Fought and killed near their land. Some saying doing that is extending the curse of the land out further. And further.

Stopping to look at her, he leaned against the desk waiting for her to acknowledge him with her ' _I am judging and disappointed in you'_ face.

“Lay it on me, Nat.”

“You,” She looked up pointing her pen, she is one of the only ones to have such a unique tool, straight from distant lands, far beyond their little curse patch, in his face. Close enough making his eyes cross, “Need to stop telling those kids that story, James.”

“I love the story and they request it. You can’t blame me for wanting to give those kids some fun.” James shrugged not bothered by anything he is doing.

Natasha sighed leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms, “James, you get requested because you tell them those tall tales. You, are telling not only a legend, a wives tale, a what not to do, a fable, you are also telling an illegal story at that.”

“Stories can’t be illegal, that is stupid.” James huffed, sniffling a little. He pushed back the strands of his hair that fallen from the ponytail.

“Right. Doesn’t change anything, The TInkerman was and is banned for a reason. The only reason I don’t burn that book because it holds your mom's handwriting. Only reason James. Stop telling those kids that story.” Natasha looked at him with a hardness that translated to fierce protective worry for him.

James frowned a little, he knows this, knows all this but he can’t help it, “I know but Nat, people have a right to know their kingdom history.”

“Not history James, I am warning you now, stop telling the story. Please. I don’t want the king burning you.”

Ah the saying, burn from the king, is the last ring, a burn from the king, is the death to the being. A warning that being on the king’s bad side for speaking that story is a fate no one wants. James gets it too but still; it is a history he wants to keep alive. Hearing her warning, translation to fear, a boatload of worry for his safety, he sighed, “Fine, I will stop telling the story so much. Will that help?” He held his back close as he made his way to the bag.

“I appreciate it. Now go home and sleep. You have work in two days, and you have to visit Steve again soon too.” She reminded him of his routine. One he made for himself after the very last blood haze he was in.

“I know Nat. I know. See you.” He spoke heading out and down to his home.

His home lies at the forest edge, close to the horse’s quarters, a happy medium between everything. To see the flowers bloom, to the guards marching, to see the people walking, and to be covered by the castle’s shadow.

Adjusting his pack, he began the trek back home. Waving to shopkeeps, being given an imported bag of plums in exchange for three silvers.

He jumped over a runaway ball watching the kids from their other after library sessions chase after. He stopped a wheelbarrow running away from another villager. Moved a cat away from a bowl of baked fish. Slipped a plum in his mouth all the while his nose in his book again. Reading another variation, another type of the Tinkerman story.

People could say he likes the Tinkertoys, the knick-knacks, the pencil drawings that people messily drew in his mom’s book. How the writing was ink-stained. There in all time. A delicate thing while recording the time of the Tinkerman. He began reading it when he was only 13, he believes that was when it was happening. Then as he grew, he learns. It is odd, how some say the legend has been in this land for years, how this tale spread across lands, messages returning the ire of the Tinkerman’s wrath. Powerful things that hurt others.

Here is James, nose buried deep, imagining a man not hostile but may be protective. He is a little strange. Prefer the boring and fantastical over the active and bloody, reality binding.

James couldn’t take it. He can’t take that lifestyle again so he is content, perfectly happy to live his quiet mundane life as a librarian. Town Crier. Poster boy. Anything for coins, but reading the kids was awarding.

Looking up, he stopped a little ways from an alleyway, an alley that leads down a shadow passage, out to the woods. There he saw the bright lights of orange and blue fluttering against the wall. In the deem walls, he peered inside only to see cogs, gears, bolts rotating on the cobblestone. But the lights shining never revealed anything. He felt his eyes blink after the wind persistent, forcing the moisture to help his eyes.

Blinking his eyes open, James stared at the alleyway, with a cat holding a bell, shining brightly and eyes glowing in the shadowy alleyway.

Shoulders slumping, James slid his book back in his pack. Nodding at the cat, he continued his way back home. Pushing away from the thought of seeing… the tinkerwheel from the story. Cogs moved in time, gears clicking, and the movement of ease. No, his imagination is running wild is all.

The librarian hurried home to begin the day for tomorrow. Only through when he returned to his small, single space cottage he swallowed hard seeing the letter, wax pressed with S done up, dark in the lighting of his unlit home, a fear that maybe he was caught for telling the story. Opening up the letter wondering what the punishment would be, he almost felt a lurching of relief and extra fear.

It is a summons to the castle, to meet with the king. King Howard.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Being summoned to the castle was either done for two reasons, punishment or death. Exile is hard to categorize but with the curse of the land and the woods, without the tinkertoys, one may forget why they were there or why they left and others may remember and try to tough it out. Never to be heard of again. Living here was as hazardous as fighting a dragon. Now dragons, James knows are part of hard fiction.

Getting up early, James let his hair hang down, framing his face but also acting as a shield. He only grew it out because of the time he spent out of the guard. He pulled on his nicest vest, nicest pants, and shoes. He rather goes there looking like he has some formal training still drilled into his head. Or anything he remembers before the incident he lost his arm in and the days that time is lost on him.

Shaking out of his reverie, James continued getting presentable and to show up promptly to the castle of the King and Queen.

Arriving at the castle was the usual fanfare. Guards on either side of the castle main entry. Giant wooden oak, iron-hinged doors. A lion's head of stone hanging overhead. As if showing this is the king's realm. Mouth open, full of teeth. James could be sure a gear or two in his arm has more teeth than that kitty. It doesn’t change the fact he is entering a domain of a man who is justifying cruel. He knows the man is cruel without having to meet that old crotch.

Nodding to some guards he recognizes and ignoring others that he knows for sure he worked with during the days of his red haze. Like Rumlow. He sucks dick. Schmidt was another ugly bastard. Still has a red burnt across his face. No Steve, meaning that Schmidt and Steve got into another tussle. Right, par for the course.

The missing spaces though spoke of those who were long gone. Happy Hogan and James Rhodes. Both men fantastic at their jobs, but he never had a chance to ask Sam, the man who had ears in the air about them. When he works with Sam in a few days, he can ask then.

Looking away from the spots of missing old comrades, He gave Dum-Dum and Morita a nod in hello inside the throne hall.

Being escorted by his old mates was a little, nerve-wracking and a bit worrisome as they all acknowledge him, friendly with him but have an aura of disappointment that he left. Other times, like now, is a knowing fond eye roll, yep, caught him he is telling stories to the babies of the land.

Looking straight ahead, James took in the thrones for what they were and the people sitting them. A type of forging that is only done by those like the King himself or those in a foreign land. Precise, clean-cut, and perfect for him. Yet, there is something almost whimsical about the throne for the queen. Queen Maria though was always a whimsical woman. Bright, fun-loving, and kind, once upon a time.

Now, she looked sad, gaunt on the worse of days, and tired on the best. A queen that should now look so worn out to being the benevolent co-ruler of the land. James can’t imagine having a lover like Howard though. His majesty looked mean. Where the queen’s light brown almost hazel eyes lit up to his presence, there a cold wall in the kings. A type of void of emotion when looking at him.

James can admit, he and Howard never got along. Never agreed and never saw eye to eye. The king thought he knew better, and that James was a simple village man who gave fame of the duty. Going into a haze, awakening to blood seam across his face and body, left arm adjusting, readjusting, and settling back to its normal use was unsettling. Wildly not right for a body to do such a thing. Even if Zola was here, he doubted the beady-eyed bastard could help him. No, this was all on him now and he chose best for himself.

Kneeling, James put his right hand over his chest, fist to hear, head bow, “Your majesty.”

“Sir James,” Maria spoke relevantly, her kind smile directed to him. Gown clean and pressed, simple greens and yellows decorating her attire, crown a delicate laurel wreath, dipped in gold. The king had a crown to make other kings quiver in the absolute, disgusting show of power. Royal blues, purples, and dark reds. It made for a display of power and something spoke of the amount of blood his own arm shed under his demands.

Maybe James felt more uncomfortable in the presence of this man because the advisor, big, hefty man, small biddy eyes, the beginning signs of balding, spoke to all the scariness that this man was not good. Like a roach, that stared and waited. Maybe a spider. Who knows?

“Mr. Barnes.” The king voice grunted out, fingers tapping, and his other hand used as a stand to lean his head-on. He had bored look when staring down at his people.

James almost wonders why the town never overthrows this man, but James also knows this man may also be the only one to solve that curse on the forest or a future heir if they ever choose to try again.

“Do you know why I and my queen,” A show of unity, possibly false to James own sharp eyes, “Called you in?”

“Oh, Howard…” Maria's soft voice began, her smile becoming crestfallen.

“No, your majesty, I do not.” James continues keeping his eyes lowered again and head down, the body still kneeling.

“Up.” Howard barked. James, like he was a trained animal stood up. He would like to get his punishment over with, even death sadly, as soon as possible. James found it to be the easiest way for him to get out the king’s face and for him not have an attitude problem with the man of the land, “I have summoned you, because my advisor, Stane has caught wind of children sharing tales of The Tinkerman.”

James can hear Natasha’s voice echoing in his head. Strong, convincing, and so, so disappointed in his choices of life. He won’t deny, but Nat’s I told you so was grinding his left arm ears, “Yes, they may have been told a tale or two of the legend. I have to admit, I found the story great even now.”

James can see Maria's small, amused smile, Stane's thin-lipped grimace and Howard’s face a level of anger, fury, and rage, how can one get three similar emotions to show so greatly on a face. James was also now seeing the way the saying of A burn from the king. The issue is, James never feels the burn, he feels cold. It was always the man's eyes and voice, devoid of actual emotion despite everything on his face showing the emotion. Even him saying sweet things to Maria, as spoke from Steve was a little… lackluster.

“There is a reason why that story is banned, illegal for the better term of the word Mr. Barnes. Let me get this through your thick brain,” James wanted to refute but the hiss in the voice said it was better not spoken on it, “this is the only warning I will give you James. Stop. Talking. About. **THE TINKERMAN**.”

The bellow carried in the hall and most definitely outside to the guards. James squared his shoulders looking his king in the eyes, “Yes your majesty.”

The librarian turned on his heels, walking out the doors of the halls, down the front doors of the castle, past the guards giving them all a curt nod, and continued on his way. He might as well stop by the smaller markets before the end of the week market commences. He could get some new bedding a d new jug for his water or maybe a book or two. The library always needed books. He has a few silvers to spare and a good handle full of coppers.

Mind made up, he set to put the morning with the king behind him.

The markets yielded better for his brightening his mood. He saw many of his neighbors and fellow villagers going about their day. Trading, bartering, selling, buy, haggling, and anything else that came with the whole trying to get things the better for their homes. James himself found it to be a fun time, especially if he can haggle with Heimdall, the funny old man that sold decorate wooden carvings, Miss Keener for a pie or two, those were for Steve.

Making his way over to Miss Keener who was cooling off the next set of pies she made. It was one of the few free sweet treats in the land. Sweetbread was usually the royal treat, and dried fruits were common and lasting. The pies were great all year round, and if one was lucky enough, they may have the chance of making a type of frozen treat to eat along. It has been a while since anyone had the right ingredients for it.

As he continued over to Miss Keener, he saw his favorite little reader, Miss Keener boy and Aunt May’s grandson. His uncle blesses that man’s heart has passed few years back, before Peter’s parents had passed on as well leaving Aunt May to care for her intelligent nephew.

Both boys are smart as a whip, and what Nat was telling him resonated and he can see even the stories he read to the young 6 years said even now, they knew fact from fiction but can find joy in.

Stopping in front of the six years old boys that was playing with an old tin cup with tiny metals scattered around them, both looked at him. Shaggy brown and blonde hair tops, bright intelligent eyes stared up at him. Even in the dark brown pants and darkening grey shirts, the boys always looked clean and pristine. The secret apprenticeship their guardians had put them in must be doing them well.

“Harley, Peter. How are you?” James smiled a little kneeling down to their level.

Peter gave a toothy shy smile, where Harley gave a wide beaming smile, a declaration that both boys were fond over his arm and then just over him. Spouting he is their favorite among other teachers, but not their absolute favorite when it comes to their teacher.

“Hi, Mr. Barnes.”

“Buckle,” Harley responded with faux innocent. The boy, James comes to realize, was a little bit of a shit and sweetheart, which made him charming. His mother had quite a laugh when James explained bluntly one day after the library. Shockingly even Aunt May agreed with the same feelings but about her own Nephew. Call it a shock, but… well it not. Peter Benjamin Parker is a little sneak when he wants to be.

“Bucky or James, Harley Keen.” James chuckled when the boy stomped his feet angrily huffing, looking put out like a cat losing a fish, “Now what you boys doing?”

“Messing with a can.”

“Here, waiting for you to tell you, the story is wrong.” Harley, child voice sounding hard. Too hard for a young child.

James slow blinked but saw Peter nodding dropping the lie of a tin can, er, the half-lie of messing with a tin cup, “Excuse me?”

Peter perked up, raising his hand but James can see him remembering they are not in the library at the moment, “Ah, that is not the real story. You have most of it, but not all of it. It not true all the way.”

“A fib,” Harley bit out staring James in the eyes. Daring the ex-guardsman to say something about what he said. Prove him wrong.

This James cannot, and James can saw that story is wrong because it is an old story that his own ma told him. Oh, he believes she told him, anyhow it is all fiction to the best of his knowledge, or what he is trying to force himself to believe.

Yet, James can’t bring himself to tell the kids the same thing everyone else tells him. Instead, he looked at the boys, “I think you might be right.”

Harley nodded happily with the agreeance and Peter squirmed but nodded, “We don’t want you to be confused with the story is all.”

Harley stood dragging Peter along, but looked back to James, “Don’t be confused anymore, Mr. Barnes. Come on Pete, my mom bought a new blanket for you!”

James watches both boys wander off back to Missus Keener. He would say he gave them hope but the way they spoke about The Tinkerman, spoke of understanding that most kids didn’t have. Acceptance that the legend truer than fiction.

With that knowledge, it didn’t sit well with him.

Walking back to his home, skipping on grabbing a pie or two, he thought back to the Tinkerwheel, or the supposed vision of a Tinkerwheel. He was not sure if he saw right last night or he was simply tired but… now that he looks through his usually shattered memories, James was sure that he saw a Tinker...flier.

A shine of pink glow, above his head, on the alleyway wall. James stared but felt his legs run. He ran after the flier. Trying to keep sharp eyes on the little flier. It was beautiful. Cogs circling, pulleys, leather, and wires, metal blades rotating, shifting plates for balancing and aerodynamics.

James almost tripped over his feet several times trying to keep track of the flier. The closer he felt the further his mind screamed he was. He felt his lungs on fire, sweat building, and feet hurting. Another corner. Another corner. And… gone.

James panted, leaning against the wall, the good distance from the alleyway he stopped and the woods beyond the village lands. Here he is, panting, staring, looking at flowers swaying in the wind. Dancing in the wind but almost taunting him about losing the little flier from the sky.

One step to the grass, James caressed the blades, without stepping foot on the grass. Afraid of a magical alarm setting if it felt a huge presence among the weeds and plants.

The first thing James can tell, the texture of this grass, the smell, everything was different the grasses grown in the village squares, fields, and so forth. He was a little overwhelmed. He looked up at the bright afternoon sun, felt the wind pushing through his hairs. Feeling the cooling breeze against his hair. 

Pulling his hand away, James took a shuttering breath, turning away from the tempting oasis, he hurried back home. Back to breath, to write down. To record. Do what Natasha has done, get the facts about The Tinkerman. If Harley and Peter believe that the Tinkerman is real… it might be true.

That is what James has done when he returns home and search. Search, and search. For the real story, for anything, a crumb that would lend itself to a true telling, maybe a very different telling. He can find none in his family's personal archive. Leaving the library.

Leaving his house quickly, he went to the library, ignoring Natasha’s greeting, or did he wave? He was not sure, but he had goals set in his mind. James was on a personal mission set off by two six years old.

Getting into the library archives, the oldest in the land, besides the castle archives themselves, James began searching.

Pulling scrolls, books, documents, and wanted posters, anything. Anything that would say The Tinkerman was true. It Is insane, the more he thinks about it, where… did the story come from? Where did his ma get it?

Sitting in the archives till Natasha found him, James still had his nose in a scroll, one that mentions strange things moving the woods, not quite a connection but not enough to prove it was what he saw today. Reading by candlelight.

“James…”

“Nat, five more minutes… please.”

Natasha, looked at him and the piles he has around him, “James, if this about TTM, let it go. He is not real. The story is lore. So, go home, sleep, and tell Steve I said hello.”

James frowned staring at the very shoddy off-handed comment in the scroll. He reluctantly knew she was right, knew she was correct about getting enough sleep and seeing Steve. Yet, today, even without the true story, The Tinkerman is real. He has to be or someone really good at being an excellent copycat. Either way, James has to figure this out for his own peace of mind.

Bidding Natasha a goodbye, James headed back home, his book heled tight, new notes added to the empty pages left unfilled by his ma. He’ll figure it out. He will.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

James woke up early figuring he went to sleep as late as he did research on that story. He already had his own personal proof, visual and very clear in his head. He had not forgotten and that was the most precious thing he could. Maybe, he had dreams of in the grass, nothing to scare him off, to transport him back to the village. It had caused James to stare at the sky from where he was when he was walking over to the library. Everything seemed so muted under the shadow of the great castle that stood overhead. Or it could be James on personal dislike to the King himself. Howard was a right jackass at the best and worse of times, but the king always presented something holistically evil.

He woke, with all that on his mind and more, mainly the story and how maybe the story didn’t have the right information. The truth. Details. Backgrounds. Actual something. Anything. James would do with anything. Sort of how he went after anything that happened in his red haze moments, the one that got him the god dreadful name of The Winter Soldier. He again never wants to look back, so his research will be kept under wraps after he went to his longest friend, and pain in the ass, for a question about the tale.

Steve never believed in those kinds of stories unless they had a true, absolute hero. In the story, according to Steve, it was all fictional on the basis that no one is happy, and the villain was never caught. James said it was a legend and warning for some about magic. Which led… anyway, maybe Steve may have a different telling and James can piece together what parts were true and parts that were false.

Stories get retold, things get shifted or change, but the telling and how it goes can always be the same. Thus, James going to the blonde man that is occasionally scheduled different times from Schmidt. Give it time, one of those bastards is going to kill each other.

Getting his pack together, quill, ink bottles, paper, and his book James headed out to visit Steven Grant Rogers. Or Sir Rogers.

Making his way over to his friend took far longer than he wanted because he stopped to pet the cat that always tries to steal the fish from the fish dish bowl. Then stopped to tell Aunt May then Missus Keener he may not be in today at the library and Natasha may be reading for the day.

A little sullen but understood that a man has to have his day off. Only if they knew he was using it to be a little nosey and far too curious for his own wellbeing.

Climbing up the cobblestone stairs, giving the pinewood door a good knocking, he waited for the blonde to get up from the bed. From breakfast. Or he has to wait till the big male came back from his daily walk around the castle. James would join but now and days, James found his exercise through books, herding the horses, pinning posters, or carrying oddball tasks. Again, he enjoys this more. Waiting not so much.

Heavens may be on his side today because Steve was in and up.

The door opening, a blond tall, blue-eyed man looked at James with a bright smile and kindness radiating off him like a furnace, “Bucky! It is good to see you.”

“Hey Stevie,” James smiled walking in after being shown an open invite. The door always open, Steve said to him after he announced he's leaving the duty. He knew it meant, the guard will be open to him, his rank returned immediately which seems awful and unfair to the one who has it now.

“How are you doing?” Steve asked closing the door with a good jiggle heading over to a tin kettle to heat whatever content, most likely cheap coffee water he may have gotten as leftovers, for drinking.

James can say, the one thing about Steve that hasn’t changed since the magic cure was given to him, was the way he saved everything and refused to waste it. Of course, their village never wastes and gives to others who need them. It is the one way they survived so long with their cursed lands and awful ass seasons.

“I am good. Very good. Actually, I found a new task to do with my time off Honestly.”

James was truthful with what he was doing, and here he can already see the calculating worry on the blonde’s face. It had nothing on Nat’s but close enough. Steve also worried for him but the reasons were always because Steve thought he got too stuck on fantasies. Okay, maybe they thought a little of the same.

Steve grimaced at James, going to get two tin cups and pouring the black coffee, being shown left sugar cubes, “Buck… before you start, is this anyway related to your summons to the castle about two days ago?”

“No?” James blinked dumping two lumps of cubes in his coffee silently thanking the captain of the guard, “If it was, what does that matter to what I am doing now?”

“Buck, I am not trying to be mean, but… it is illegal.”

James rolled his eyes hard and repeatedly enough for Steve to see him do it. Taking a swig of coffee, James swishes the coffee around his mouth trying to get rid of the morning breath he has. He should find those mint leave again and suck on them again.

“A story, can not, listen to long Stevie, be illegal. That ridiculous.”

Steve groaned leaning back rubbing his face, “You are being ridiculous. Look, just follow the law okay? I ain’t gonna do nothing but please, I rather you not… be gone? You know?”

James nodded, he knows but he wants to know this more, “I won’t bring it up anymore after you tell me if you know the story or variant of it?” He tiled his head despite the blonde groaning louder letting himself slouched in the seat across from James.

A big hand dragged the blonde’s face as he looked at James with a tiresome concern look, “You obsessed with this story. With this thing with the Tinkerman. Buck, you always… been…”

“I am not crushing on a man I have no idea about. Look, I just want to know in case I have the story wrong is all. Is that such crime?” James stared him in the eyes, willing his oldest to lie to his face.

Watching the guardsmen squirm and twitch, Steve set his cup down rubbing his neck, “I only know that my mom told me that man was highly intelligent, in the story the tells that he was around was his little tinker things floating and rolling around. Unique colors. More mystical than the king’s robes. Now, though, that is all you… not likely or real.”

James half-listened already having his book out writing down the notes, flipping through the story he has on his person and few smaller slight variants, “No, no, you helped a lot, Steve. I swear.”

James saw the jaw clench and the muscles twitch in the broad shoulders. Steve was gearing up for it, “It is just a story. An old wives tale. Bucky listens to me now… drop it. It is nothing but about how bad magic is.”

James pointedly stared at the big blond man, crossing his arms, making a point to show his metal arm over his human one. A point anytime magic and The Tinkerman was brought up. He heard Steve groaning mumbling about not what he meant. Well, James is going to iterate, “My arm and your body.”

“I know Buck. I know you know what I meant.”

“Erksine and Zola. Two different mages learned under the same good health, kind mage. You got Erksine and Stark, don’t tell me shit you didn’t see Stark helping. I believe that story full-heartedly. And I got Zola. I am grateful I live to see another, day, and years. But that red haze or whatever it had fucked me up. It still does.”

Steve stood up rubbing his face looking at James, he felt his chest heaving, “I know! Look, I didn’t mean that. I just mean that, for your own health, let the story be what it is. A story?”

“What if it is not?”

“I don’t want you killing yourself over it. Bucky… please.”

“I will let it go if I don’t see a Tinkerwheel or tinker anything again. Not the arm included.” James sighed sliding his book back in his bag, resigning himself to figuring the rest out or opening the old skillset he longed buried away to avoid his blank states.

Without more than a parting phrase of see you again soon and later, James left to head back home. Maybe to sleep the day off and the tiring conversation with Steve. He knew it was going to be tiring and he had no one to blame but himself. It sucks but he knew maybe Steve would not be so… open, well wrong. Steve gave a lot of great information about the story but not enough. Not the true history.

History is what the story is.

James only made it halfway, when he got to the same alleyway he saw that first Tinkerwheel, but it was a Tinkerflier. It a little bigger than the last one he saw. This had a glow of orange, not so aggressive like the dark dyes of oranges that turned to a deep brown. But like flowers. Vibrant. Pulsing. And it was flying. It so much bigger.

James took a step over cautiously as it hovered delicately in the air. No wind needs, it used it own power. That was fucking amazing to James's own eyes. The librarian couldn’t help but to reach over and touch the little thing carefully. With gingered care. How he wanted to just see if it can communicate.

“Hey…” James was so close, and it was off.

Already in full sprint, James hurried to keep sight of the little thing. He couldn’t lose it and didn’t want to be afraid to follow it further. He was going to be stopped by… flowers? Hand on bark, not the house wood, no, it was the bark he hasn’t touched in years since he was what… 17? 18? Maybe younger. He was not sure.

Pulling his hand back, James swallowed looking back to the clear difference and then back in the dark woods and the fading orange flower in the wind. It was gone now. He lost track of it. Irony no one saw him and a type of blessing feeling of relief that no one saw him. Looking at the flowers he was in… he felt okay. Nothing killing him. No forced transformation. No surprise teleportation. Just flowers. Bright beautiful flowers and the green grass. Bright blue sky lightening to the sun rising further.

James was reluctant to leave, may he can still catch up to the little tinkerflier. Chase after. Get closer. Learn. Maybe it could talk. All he could… was add to the index. They came in two forms. Pink and orange. The little wheel one was orange with blue, bright blue like the thunder in the sky. That is all he could do.

Stepping back into the village, the feeling of the place he lived forever feeling even more foreign, he stepped to start back on the path back home. Feeling a set of eyes on him, he turned back seeing nothing but the flowers waving in the breeze behind him.

Swallowing thickly, James turned away from the woods, the lure of knowing anything even if he somehow forgot when he returned, he will write it down and know it was true. One day soon, he can feel it.

He went home to get ready for the end of the week market and his work with Sam after that.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The end of the week market is the time that everyone gets what they need or desire. A for people to restock and to grab anything they could from family members they could remember. This was also the time for James to restock on a gross load of food, garments, paper, quills, and ink. Then little essentials like mint and those little teeth cleaning things that he found once. It cost a bit but he saved up for this. He always does the big one and then tiny ones in-between if he can spare a few more coins. If there is a chance, he can grab things for his arm, he is good on the supply for his arm to stay kind to but… there is always a risk he might run into a bad week or month. Gummed up parts. Soreness on his shoulders and left side.

Making sure everything was together, James wandered out to the town square early or as early as he can out beat the others. Which is never likely, but he likes to try whenever he can.

Browsing at the meats, James already made notes on what to preserve as jerky and what to eat as soon as he is able to. The little dark cold cellar he had, was low, maybe he can get a collection of hail this year and dump it all in there.

He continued to peruse the meat stands, fish, and fruits until something out of the ordinary flared in the corner of his eye. A little boy, dressed in silk brown and gold garments, shockingly almost silver hair. Similar to a girl in a story with hair of gold. But silver. The more he stared, the more it was wool of silver. Holding a bag of gold coins. From the way, the young boy was holding the hefty bag. He looked to be around 5, school age. A year younger than Harley and Peter. He can only assume. He watched the boy buy fruits, the man not looking any bewildered at the unique child in the market. Buying his own food, he kept an eye on the boy.

Going over to Missus Keener, he asked her if she ever saw the boy with the silver curly hair. He got a no. He asked every shop and stand owner if they recognize the child with silver hair. They each asked what boy or no. One good answer, one he should have thought of was to ask Aunt May and Miss Cho. They may have answers. He hoped Miss Cho may know as she mainly taught all the kids when she could.

James turned over to find the boy so he can get his name and see if he is lost, maybe have Cho help find his parents but the boy was gone. He couldn’t have gone far, it is not hard to see the shiny head anywhere despite what others say. Which bothered him, how can they not see the silver-headed child? He has. He has.

The librarian headed over to the school only to see now a ruby-headed curly hair child stare into the windows. He looked entranced, curious and all the way calm. Dressed same as the boy in the market. Same age, but here, James can see his eyes. Soft blues. Almost unnaturally blue. Unlike his own glacier blues and Steve’s what the ocean could be like blue, the blue-green. It was otherworldly blue. James almost was a little focused as he felt barrel ramming into his thighs.

Righting himself, silently scolding himself about not being more observant, the ex-guardsman turned inside the school, seeing how the boy looked at him briefly but turned back to the school, only with Cho cleaning the bored.

Looking at the window, ensuring the boy was still there, the red curly hair still there. Bright as a rose. Big ol' blues piercing at him. Barely blinking. James quickly hurried over to Cho, they must be brothers, only for their matching outfits and their drastically unique hair.

“Cho…”

“Mr. Barnes, what brings you by?” The teacher asked cleaning off the board with a gentle.

“I wanted to ask you about a little boy,” James tried to be subtle with his gesture as to not alert the boy they were talking about him, “If you knew him or knew anything about him. I think he has a brother.”

Helen turned to James blinking adjusting her spectacles, “What boy?”

What boy? James whipped around, feeling a muscle pull, but he ignores it when he saw no boy in the window. No boy with bright red hair. He felt like he was going to be labeled as the town lunatic soon but, shit he could have sworn that the little boy was there. Wasn’t he? Frowning at Helen, he sighed.

“I just… thought I saw a little boy there… is all. Sorry.” He let his shoulders slump at the empty spot that the ruby redhead was at.

Helen sighed sadly patting the librarian’s back, “I know, there is a lot of kids that stop by here, many, sadly without a home. If I see the little boy… I’ll let you know okay?”

James nodded at the teacher, giving her a weak smile. Sending her his thanks, he quickly went to finish his shopping and get ready to nag Sam Wilson’s ears off tomorrow.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

James couldn’t sleep that night, the two unique children he has seen by the school and in the market were on his mind. Bright hair and clothes that even outrank the king and queen’s clothing. He couldn’t sleep so he made notes of it. The times that he spotted unique glows, the way the two young boys were dressed, the tinkers, and the grass, flowers, the sky, the warmth of the sun. Everything that was uniquely not told or mention in the story. Maybe he is assuming those boys were in the story. Assuming the flowers, grass, trees, and the sky was due to the curse involving the story and not because of the castle and the king himself.

James is assuming all this till his hand cramps, his shoulders ache, and his eyes heavy. Heavy enough to deem to him it is time to sleep. To rest.

Eye open to the new dawn and a new workday. Papers, posters, and announcements to post on the town square for those to see. Maybe a new law, rule, banning of something made by the king. Maybe another person missing. Gone. Long gone. Rumors associating with a curse. Maybe a town announcement of an execution. Lifetime imprisonment. Who knows. James only knows today will be over with and maybe fun with Sam.

Getting ready, the librarian gets his pack, books, writing implements, and anything together for the long day.

Looking himself in the mirror he wonders… maybe Sam might know something about the little boys. Maybe kids of those missing coming to see the place they lived.

Heading over to the town square doesn’t take long, it only takes longer if a horse and cart is taking a bit. If James becomes a little distracted by the sudden rush of people trying to get the first look at the bulletin board. Or James is taking his time despite the chances of losing the coin he can be made.

He made though. Made it in good timing and not a moment to spare because Sam Wilson is shoving a stack of paper, the commemorating amount of glue, and a brush. So begins the long and sticky day.

Swipe the wood, slap the poster. Swipe the wood. Slap the scroll on. Swipe. Slap. Swipe. Slap. Oh, questions.

In the hustle and bustle of the square, James almost forgot himself in the monotonous task at hand. Looking to the other removing the paper from the board rolling up important old news, laws, and other things to place in charters and books. He tapped the black male shoulder getting the other attention.

“What?”

“I have a question.” James started still swiping and slapping.

“Okay. What is it? I heard about you being summoned, so don’t ask about the story man. I don’t need to get summoned to the fire.” Sam grumped out.

Well, gossip spreads fast then again James is the man who likes stories and reads the legend to the tiny humans.

“No, not about that. I was warned already about it. No… I have a question about two new kids.”

“New kids?” Sam eyed like he really lost his shit. No, James doubts he can lose any more of that. His brain may be full of fantasies and whimsy but he knows what he saw.

“Yeah… sharply dressed. Better than the nobles of the land.” Unspoken about better than the king himself, “I saw them yesterday.”

Sam stared at him. James felt the judgment oozing off the eyes in the sky, “Er… you sure?”

“Yeah. I am positive. You know I have just good of eyes than you do.” James shot back continuing the pattern of swipe and slap. Swipe and slap. Trying and on a few times failing not to get the stick glue on his hands.

“Okay… Right. No. I have not seen any sharply dressed new kids in the square. Unless you count Peter and Harley but they have an apprenticeship going.”

“I know that. I read to them.” James grumped looking at one new law about no picking off the royal apple trees. Another dumb rule. Or another notice of not speaking about The Tinkerman. Whoops on his part.

“I wanted to ask… if you may have gotten eyes or ears on any of the missing people if they had kids at some point.” James ventured into the topic.

Sam went stiff but loosen up quickly looking James up and down then pursing his lips. Mulling over the thought if he wanted to really talk to James about the missing people. Most importantly. One, James Rhodes. One time close to reaching a high rank but he was gone. Poof from here one day. Never to be heard from again. No goodbyes. Nothing. It happened as well to the like of Lady Potts. And sir Hogan. Hogan a great guard like Rhodey. Personally escorted the King and Queen once through the town.

“No… I have not heard of any of them having kids. If I had, I would be the one to tell you personally. Find them even. Especially Rhodey…” Sam sighed staring off for a moment then shaking his head looking back at James with again strained tension in his shoulders and tightness around his eyes.

James frowned forgetting that… Sam had something of a fondness for the guardsman. A close adoration for him. Something James himself wishes he would have one day. He can’t understand not knowing what happened to some he cares for dearly the way Sam has and still does for the missing man.

“I am sorry Sam… that… was insensitive.” He bit back he was curious that it might do with the curse. But the topic about the Tinkerman might be to much for the man himself.

“No, no. It is okay. It has been 4 years… I have let the candle go eventually. Anyway, I have not seen any new kids and they may not be the kids of any of them. I am unsure.” Sam leaned over giving James a firm squeeze on his right shoulder, “Is it… a curiosity of knowing?”

Feeling caught but unwilling to give in James shrugged, “I don’t want the kids to be alone out in the streets or to get hurt is all Sam.”

“Big softie.” Sam chuckled finishing up and going to help James with the rest of the swipe and slap. Swipe and slap.

The ex-guardsman and the town crier finished up the day's duties. The topic of those missing not brought up again. James grabbed his belonging wanting to make it back to his little home for the sun fell behind the castle walls once more. Seeing Sam getting ready to put away all of his things and the day's work, James made a noise to get his attention.

“What?” Sam looked at him popping his back and shaking his legs out.

“You… can always hold a candle for someone. It is not bad.” James started strong but finished rather lamely but he hoped it got the point across.

“Eugh. You are a softie.” Sam laughed a little beginning to head back in the direction of the town criers' work areas.

James shook his head with a fond smile heading back home. He took that comment as a quiet thank you. An encouraging strength that the man presented to him. He is a little bit of a softie since leaving the guard but he is also a friend. He doesn’t want Sam to feel that his holding on to a lost love is debilitating. It is an ache but it can be a good ache. An affection. A love to remember. Maybe to look for again.

Gosh, he is a softie in the best and worse of the times.

The librarian went home for the rest of the evening. Re-read over his notes he began marking in the book. Writing down those missing. First was Rhodes. Then Potts. Last Hogan. Four years again. When he was 20. They were no older than him. Except for Hogan, older by 3 years. Twenty-seven years old.

His concern is on the kids, the story that is not true, and now those who are missing. He might be reaching now… but he can’t be sure if this has a connection. A togetherness. And in the dead center of the questions without answers is the King, queen, and the missing baby. Who would be 21 this year? Who should be up on the throne and making the land… something.

He turned to the old framed image, a painting done of his mother, still a type of radiancy despite the fading of the picture beginning. He will figure it out, to make his mom’s story complete at least.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

James started the new week how he starts his week every day, every week, every month, in the morning small market. He got up early as the market every beginning of the week tends to be over in two hours. The leftovers from the end of the weekly market.

Here the librarian began his trek from his home, past the horses’ stall, down past the alleys, the shop keeps, but to stop when a stroll of guards marching through, asking questions, and searching in the alleyways he has noticed the tinkers himself.

He watched some old comrades, new guards proving themselves, and so forth searching. Hunting. Following. Asking questions.

James was going to ignore the search and continue on his way to the market hoping to grab something of good value until he heard something that made him blanching in shock and worry.

The guardsmen were looking for the kids who were stealing from the markets. Possibly the end of the week market when everything was of heavier traffic. It made him worry because it could be any kids without families, without loved ones. It could be those snappily dressed boys. Were they okay? The king would not be so harsh on children. Would he?

James frowned knowing in good standing that the king can be… cruel and unusual.

Not eased by the thought he saw Steve working today. Going up to him he tapped his friend's shoulder, hoping the metal on metal will reach his ears over the hustle of other guards.

“Buck! Hey.” Steve greeted him with a smile but eyes still on the lookout.

“Heard… we have some hungry kids.”

Steve looked at James with a stare of understanding concern and questions, “I can’t say much, but don’t worry, we just want them to return the things they stole.”

“Are you sure?”

“If it is food, I will pay for it myself, and if it an item I can have them return it and give them of my own if it can replace the item,” Steve reassured the librarian with a bright smile. Confidence all through his body language.

James didn’t believe it for the King's own weirdness towards kids but felt a hint of relief from the blond, “If anything, send them to Cho or me. Okay? At least until we can get them somewhere settle if they orphan.”

Steve nodded once to James gathering the guards to search another part of town. The two waved each other off but James couldn’t shake off the worry for the boys he saw and the other kids of the town. Again… the king is weird with kids but… he also is cruel. It makes for a ghastly combination in James’s mind.

Throughout the morning up till noon, James tried to be on the lookout for the kids and help them avoid arrest or the cornering. Despite Steve’s claims of what he plans to do for the kids doesn’t change the fate when they have to meet in front of the king. Or even Stane who has a small like for children. His own child being that rough around the edges.

Swallowing down the nerves, he continued until no kids were notice and nothing was changed.

James by the time the sun was past noon, he called off his own search. There is a good chance the child or children have a small and secret hideout. Maybe no child was stolen at all and it was a disgruntled shopkeep. James has certainly seen his fair share of the angry shopkeeps. James was sure if it was a big concern the full guard would out not a squadron.

However, the memory of the silver-haired boy sent a pang of nauseous worry to his stomach and heart. He can’t help but not think that the king may be looking for something instead of trying to keep an upset villager from solo rioting.

Biting at his thumb all the way to the library he made a mental note to revisit another market in the following days.

He kept biting his thumb thinking, having a multitude of thoughts circling his already filled to the brim head. He bit till he tasted copper. Making a face, he sucked his thumb categorizing the books in the library. He half waved Natasha off when she heard him a sharp breath of pain.

Looking down at the pinkish chewed thumb, James sighed flipping through a book about a girl trying to make home by midnight. Another about a snake man and woman falling in love.

Shaking his head, James slid the books away even when his focus was still on the thoughts about kids and danger involving the king.

Peering out the window he saw Sam riding on his horse with his Falcon perched on his shoulder. The ex-graudsman stared then listened to the strong lungs cry out.

“The House of Mages are arriving in the kingdom! House of Mages is arriving in the kingdom tonight! All are welcome! All are Welcome! The greeting and party of the Mages hosted by the king and queen! The party will be hosted by the king and queen of the land!”

James watches his friend bellow mighty, seeing others poke their heads out then a crowd forming to follow the town crier. Others rushing back in to get ready for the party with fancy mages and wizards that will be gracing the land. He was not too excited. His one-time experience with the wizard or two was with Zola… and again. Grateful for a new chance of living for another ten plus years but not so much for the fuckery that came with the arm.

Walking to the front desk, he tapped the wood gently with his metal hand seeing Natasha popped out of the scroll room with a smoothed-out face.

“Heard the crier?”

Natasha heft up a box of unwritten, half-written, and drafted up needing to be read through and rewritten. She looked unbothered at the announcement, as seeing she ran into a small thing with Zola, Madame Hydra, and Fury. She seems to have a rocky relationship with mages of land. James figured as much, as mysterious and efficient the woman is in general.

“I heard. Are you going?”

James shrugged not sure if it would worth it or not. He doesn’t want to have to run into old faces and new people. “I don’t know.”

“Zola? Or Rumlow?”

“Both? Zola? Fear. I don’t know Nat. Maybe, just to show my gratefulness. You know how some wizards are… if you don’t show your face.” James started not sure, he just had a hunch that Zola was like other mages from his guild… cocky. Pious. Thinking they are holier than thou. Sighing internally, he let his head fall back answering his own damn question.

“You are going then?”

James let his head slam against the desk, wondering if he can hide out in the woods not wanting to deal with other people.

He felt a delicate deadly hand rub the back of his head gently, “You will survive James.”

The following two days, the librarian, standing in the crowd with other members of the town, kids on shoulders, teens watching along with adults, it was an event of the ages for their curse little patch of land. James for himself was rather… all… meh to the affair. The houses, guilds, and circles flags waved proudly in the air. Putting fancy schmancy displays for the simple and mundane folk to gawk on about. Go ooh and aah.

You have the House Shield. The Supreme House. The Hero Guild. Hyrda Circle. Asgardian Circle. So forth. James looked at all the house, the walking and waving wizards. The different colors the wizards presented themselves as. It was something that spoke about a status against the sea of average-looking colors. James eyed them all by the hair or the lack of hair. Never wanting to make eye contact.

Staring he felt he saw dancing lights in the distance, beyond the houses, light flaring from the mages in front of them. A dancing of whimsy that cried out to him like a canary.

Before he could take a step to see, he felt the crowd carry him away. Feet forced to follow the steps that the mages have taken. All the way to the courtyard of the kingdom. The castle doors open for the people. Open for the people to talk to the mages about the land outside, with their memories properly intact.

What bothers James now, even if he didn’t want to be here, was that they have their memories intact. Intact. He was growing more curious and cursing he didn’t bring his things with him. He changed the tune, kept anything about his plans hidden behind a flood of blood, haze, and anguish pain when dealing with his arm. He has to know if their memory is truly intact or it was washed away. Will it be gone when they leave instead?

James made himself become solid in the face of re-meeting one Zola.

Looking around the party, James sipped the wine offered to the people who came with the crowd. He looked at the townsfolk speaking with the mages. Asking questions. Paying them to deliver a later to someone outside. The name was written but they were unsure if they were the people they were trying to get to. Memory for the town a tricky saddening thing to have to torment the town members.

Taking another sip, James started the search for the one he is looking for. He took Mage Fury with his own band of apprentices. Loki and some other mages from their circle. He was looking for one Zola though. The man that may be the oldest there besides Erksine. Even Howard, even though he has zero proof of that man doing magic.

James turned in his spot seeing the man he wanted but he felt his arm twinge again, the inner workings of the arm burning with an unseeing freeze. Wincing silently at the pain, James rubbed his shoulder taking a shuddering breath. But even as he made a move to go to the mage, he felt his arm acting up further when two younger mages met up to his side.

James wasn’t even sure why his arm was acting up but when Zola and the other two, one with a red glow to her hands and the other white, not like snow but like sleet, a fast downpour of sleet, met his grey-blue, he felt his head pound. Rubbing his shoulder more, he felt the geyser of red flooding around him, as the mage before gave him a kind smile. Mouth moving. Hand gestures crooking a hither form. He was not in the guard but the haze started up.

Pinching at his side, James rubbed down his metal arm. His lungs constricting at the sight of the three. He can’t do it. He doesn’t want to be near here anymore. He hears the voices screaming run. Fight. Spill. And all James could do was hurry out. Dodging other mages like Fury who tried to stop to ask about Natasha. Erksine tried to ask if he has seen Steve. Too many mages.

He felt unhinged and unwilling to even take the time to be the polite boy he was raised as. No, he just wanted to run. Go back to the books. The library and enjoy the simplicity and fantasies. One may the danger comes with the fantasies but… he didn’t want to be that danger.

Feet carried him away from the party and the further he was away from the flurry of magic and auras, the better he felt. The pain in his shoulder ebbing away. The haze receding back into the corner of his mind.

Rubbing his arm he ignored the other people who tried to ask why he was leaving. Barely hearing from the other aware man, the night watch, Clint Barton talking about how most of the mages will be staying in the land to meet with the king and queen. Strange happenings that have been too frequent to throw away.

James had a thing or two say about that but… he didn’t want that to be the thing, the information that gets the warning turns into an actual punishment.

Slipping into his home, James took a deep breath willing his nerves to go away. He only stopped when he heard a crinkling under his feet. Looking under him he saw the images of the children that the guards were looking for. The face of the child with bright red hair and another with silver hair. Same face. Twins. Dapper dress, jeweled pendants on their collars. Dark jackets and soft kind faces. Last descriptions.

Grabbing the paper, James swallowed looking out the window. He knows what he has to do then.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The morning brought an awareness of new people in the town, in the castle. Wanted posters of the young lads. The mysterious happenings that others are now noticing. The whole idea that James is diving further into a mystery that is calling to be solved. Resolved. Figured out and revealed for something of what it is. James could not be sure but the more he looked into it, the more writes things down, the more he sees new things and people, the more he feels he entered something that won’t let go of him.

Red Haze is damn.

The pain in his shoulder and body be damned.

The warning from the king himself that can be damned to the belly of the beast that dances across the heavens.

Sitting in bed, he sat there watching. Observing. Waiting for a sign, that the boys would be there. At least that way he can circumvent anything. Or even help buy something if they are stealing. But why would they need to steal if they are well dressed? Unless they stole the clothes, but then would not even be trinkets or whatever they have stolen that Steve talked about replacing so easily.

He listened to Sam make the morning announcements about the mages who stayed in the inns, taverns, and the castle themselves till the end of the mystical occurrence. With or without their help. He then heard Sam make a notice from the king about watching out for the kid of bright hair and a child of silver hair.

He listened, took, and wrote down. The boys are to be turned in to the king themselves, a small punishment dealt out to them if parents are not brought in. Why they stole and the return of the good they have stolen.

Oh, James now felt he was needed to leave the home now. The boys, the young children traveling alone needed to be protected. Yet, he kept staring, until saw the forest glitter with reds, orange, and yellows, getting closer and then gone. Now.

James dressed, pack attached to his person made his way to the small market before the end of the week happen. Once more realizing he is not going there to shop but more to out beat his old rival and friend at I Spy. He needed to out beat Clint if that man was on duty to spot the kids. If Clint was on duty… Nat might not help. Shit.

Putting his hair up in a messy bun, James worked out knots in his shoulders and legs. He knew he going to run if he managed to find the boys before Clint. Help them get what they need and get them back to where ever they go.

Tying his pack to his person, making sure the flap was closed securely. James took a deep brave breath. His status is about to be blown up after today if someone realizes he is helping kids who might have stolen. James knows he saw the little silver-haired boy pay for food. And the redhead boy was watching Cho clean her classroom.

Here goes nothing.

Heading to the market, James looked around the medium-laden crowd forming at the market before the end of the week-market. He kept his eyes sharp on the lookout for the bright hair children. There he sees a light brown hair teen standing at a fruit stand holding the young children’s hands. He looks like a teen, maybe a little younger than a teen but he was dressed similarly to the young children he has seen.

James felt a shudder go up to his body to his head. He looked to the rooftops not seeing the archer, but he knows that Clint Barton, with great aim and shot, was watching. Waiting.

Slipping through another crowd, James kept his head down, eyes low, but keeping the boys in view.

From where he is standing he watches the young silver-haired child pay for a bag of apples and a loaf of bread. The teen seems to tell the boys something getting gentle nods and bright grins. The three nod to the shopkeep. Nothing stole, the coins left on the market stand, yet… the shopkeep then look confused at the coins. Then becoming upset at missing supplies. The man gave them the items.

From the way James can see, they paid for but something happened to the man's own memory. What the hell.

James wanted to ask the man, explain to the man that they paid but it was too late when the three were being shouted at by the man who spotted his products. Angry barking and yells about the thieving children and their caretaker.

Shit.

The librarian hurried to see a blond head popping up from the advantage. He needs to fucking hurry now. The ex-guardsman shrugged on forgotten skills and traits that made him a hell of a guard. A duty man. A killer.

Silently he started to guide the three despite their tensing except for the red-headed child.

“You are the…”

James noted how the teen shook his head at the younger. The silver head boy looked confused and upset. Fighting off his own personal curiosity about his long face, James heard feet landing some odd feet away. Turning them down an alleyway, he mumbled, “Heads down, walk faster.”

The teen looked at him from the corner of his eyes, bright blues looking at him, “Why are you helping us?”

“I know the king and he is a strange and unkind man.” That is all James said as he directed the three-down another alley. Urging them on to pick up the pace. From a further distance, he heard the shouting calls from Clint about seeing the kids. Then he felt the ground trembling. The occurrence of horse traveling. The pebbles rumbling. It might not even be that loud or assertive, but with three kids' lives in potential risk or danger, James in his person couldn’t let the kids get hurt in any way.

“Run.” James saw the boys hesitate to listen to him, but as the pounding of horses and feet started to fall around him, James used the authority of his voice that he got through his time as one of the higher ranking guardsmen, “Run! Now, now!”

All three jumped at the hurried demand but the three listened.

First, the little silver-haired boy started, the ruby red hair boy followed latching onto his brother's hand. Then the older boy ran after them. James followed after making sure he had three in his sightline with ears peeled for the beginning of the men coming to apprehend the three maybe now James if they caught them.

Jumping over barrel he pulled down an old pile of woods blocking on path slapping on windows, doors of homes. In his ears, he heard people opening the door. The stomping and whinny noises from the horses. Hasty explanations being made to those who had the door open, windows blocking. Obscuring them from the line of sights.

Shaking his hair out, the humble librarian felt the sun on his face, his arm beginning to act up. But he kept running with the boys. He needed to be ensured that they were safe from the guardsmen on duty. Away from the hand that Howard may lay upon them. Grass flying up around them, flowers in full bloom. Horse in a cascaded of noises. Heavy voices of panting guards debating on following them across the grass and how serious the crime really is.

The warmth of the sun fading with the coolness of the forest. The further he entered the woods, keeping the boys' insight making sure they get somewhere safe. All in the span of his running he felt his arm surge to life. The stalling freezing on the left side of the body flaring with a vengeance.

James swallowed dryly in the warm air. Rubbing up his side, he blinked seeing he was no longer following the boys but on his knees. When had he fallen behind? Are they safe? Why is it the damn thing acting up now? He wasn’t near Zola.

Staring at the shady woods. Woods, bushes, and rays of sun fighting through the thick treetops. He couldn’t see anything that would affect his arm or himself in such a way. In such a malicious way.

Another twinge and another attack of stabbing cold hitting his nerves. Gasping out in pain, he felt his body curling up on itself. He could see a puff of his own air steaming away. Convulsing, James licked his lips. He felt cold. The blood-red washing over his vision, freezing before him.

Pins and needles collecting under his skin. Falling over on his left side, he heard a deep cry of pain ripping through him. His head was pounding. His whole god damn body was howling out for the pain to stop.

Was it the curse of the woods affecting the magic of the arm, of his healed body? Was this Howard’s hellish warning becoming true? A punishment. Is he going to die? Is this going to kill him? Did Howard call those wizards to place an ward in the woods? Was Howard calling in favors to curse those being nosey like himself?

Oh heavens, please make this stop. He can’t see anything more than a dark red blur. He can’t seem to get a clear grasp on his brain, the images before. What is real and not real. The pain making his brain scream louder at the need for everything to stop fucking moving. Stop touching him. He felt his fists clenching causing a ricocheting effect of cold, pain, stabs, pins and needles volleying against one another.

Make it stop.

Let him breathe. He needs to breathe.

He wants to die.

Lights are hurting now. Breathing is hurting. The loud ringing of screams and arguments making him want to vomit. The loud crunching of grass and dirt making him imaging ripping off his ears. Stabbing his ears. The noises rattling his brain causing a swirling of thickening red, melting, freezing, melting, freezing, becoming stickier in his muddled brain. The slush making his stomach roiling in anger.

He needs to sleep. He needs to stop feeling the pain of being awake. If he is dying, well now he knows why the story was never meant to be explored. Howard must be laughing at him now.

Another full-body shudder, he toppled over his back breathing heavily. Eyes sliding shut and he let go.

.

.

.

_Wake up, please._


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Screams. So many screams. The breaking of bones, dents in armor, and the ripping of flesh. The drips of red staining the ground, hail, or high water he spilled. He can taste the haze surrounding him. No one is safe. He can feel the arm locking up in the position made for fighting.

Enemies fall. Allies flee. Arms holding swords or anything he gets his hands on because chained link.

He can’t seem to see past anything. He needs to breathe. He needs to stop fighting. The thrumming of blood and chanting of fight. Fight. FIGHT.

The smell in the air is burning flesh. The arm, the arm locking up. He can’t feel his left side now. He can’t see out of his eyes. He can’t feel his tongue.

He needs out. Let him go. He doesn’t understand. He was helping the land, he was helping. He thinks he is helping.

He can’t feel anything.

What is happening?

Is he in the belly of the dancer? He is getting a passage to the heavens? Or is he stuck walking the lands he had desecrated with his vileness? Can he blame the haze? The arm? Or himself?

He went to read to kids because it was safer, simpler, and content. No chances of a haze.

Kids are innocent things that need guidance. He had to need guidance. Young Peter and Harley have that guidance.

Kids… he was following kids. Then the surge, the haze, the cold. The battering cold shocks him still. Froze him over. He doesn’t want to awaken in fear is in a frozen creature belly, clear as the ice in stories. Able to see beyond and not beyond it. Stuck to watch the world leave him behind.

_Is he okay dad?_

A young child voice, different.

Static noises of chimes and whistles.

Tinker…wheel? Flier? Is this heaven then? Able to live in fantasy seems to be a heaven. But why the child?

_No, Friday honey. He is far from okay. Keep the other occupied. I will do what I can…_

He is sinking back in the cold. He can feel the convulsion taking over him. Pushing him through another mind-numbing deep haze. A stuck. A slush of red he keeps moving but sinking into.

Steve crying. Steve small. Steve was sick. Never fancied the magic but was helped by magic like himself. After that boulder crushed his arm, he has broken his ribs and collar bone. His spine bent and twisted. He can feel the blood from the accident sinking out of him and ballooning him up. He was supposed to die.

The haze fell over him. The blood in his eyes covered his vision. Then he woke. The pain was too much. It was on the coldest winter’s night. It was every penny is ma had. Every cent his dead father left them, to pay the slimy mage.

A fist from Hydra. Magic to do the bidding of the king. Protect the land. The ideals. An executioner and judge. No court needed. No… he never wanted that. He wanted to help.

Breath. _I am here_. Breath.

The belly is terrifying. He doesn’t want to breathe the cold air.

A rumble from his side. The smell of something warm. Were Heavens are calling to him again? Is he being judged by the Heavens and the Belly?

More chimes. More whistles. So many sounds of wood against metal.

The smells leaking away from warm to burning oaks. The smells of metal when wet. The smell of metal when dry. He knows this smell from his own arm alone. The touch of metal he understands.

 _Fuck the mage who did this_.

James didn’t think that. What… oh he is going back under again.

The librarian felt his body surge to life, intaking a big breath. Lurching forward his felt his whole body stuttered back to life completely. Brain righting itself. Accepting the light. The sounds. The smells. The cold that had suppressed him in the haze is melting back. His arm… not locking up. He doesn’t feel the stickiness on his body. Surrounding him.

There was a voice that speaking to him. Voices actually talking around him.

Taking in his new environment, James takes in the garden in the back from the window. He must be further in whatever this place is. The room itself was cozy. Warm. His pack hanging gently off a hook. Appearing weighted as it had been before he blanked out.

Letting bare feet touch the floor, he saw a cauldron over a now dimmed fire. Clothes drying on the mantel of the fireplace. Blankets folded down the bed.

Flexing his toes, rolling his shoulders, stretching his fingers, James took in the ceiling seeing colorful glass shards reflecting the light in many directions. Giving the room a shimmery glow.

Standing up completely, James went to the window seeing a shed in the back. Trees circling the little hideaway that is the garden. Peering as far as he can without opening the glass windows, James sees a blonde head and brunette head with… a tinkerwheel.

The tinker was in full light. Little wheel rolling inside a belt. Pulleys and bolts working in tandem. A glow of light purplish, lavender is the color, shown in the sun.

He watched the two boys talking to the little thing. It was charming in a strange way. The story never telling about how charming the thinkerwheels were up close and personal. Then again, probably no one has gotten this close to such a being. And the boys knew. They knew where The Tinkerman was.

Stepping back from the window, James took in the room again. He wasn’t even sure how long he was out. Where has he been taken to in the first place?

He left the little room he slept in for goodness knows how long but entered a long hall. Lit by bright yellow flames. Opened light shining through the window. He passed one room, the door cracked seeing it is a room filled with books. Filled with metal and jewels. Leaving that room, he wandered over to another room with two beds. He is assuming that must be for the boys when they come here. Assuming here is their mentor. Is he a worker in the metals? He must be. But the Tinkerman is a mage. Or was that wrong in the story.

Another expansive room showed several ports and small stations. Each of different sizes and shapes. Possibly for the little tinkers that he has seen so far. Touching the smooth wood frame of the door, James crept away from the room. He started to head where the smells of food were once again making a strong presence than the metallic smells of the home.

Passing a spiral staircase, decorated with the same color glass, silken cloth, and smooth wood, James made his way past another door leading to an open room, more books. Toys. Balls. Tin cups. Bolts. Leather. Wiring. Everything that he can see. A room for kids and tinkers he supposes.

Heading into the kitchen, James sees a man. Chocolate curly hair. Long dark red coat, tattered at the end. Burnt smudges on the sleeves and the coat itself. Dark blue pants, lined with gold. Similar to the silver and red-headed boys and the teen. Now that his head is a little clearer. The memories were a little less sharp. Less painful.

James may have stopped breathing however when the man turned from the pot one hand still stirring. Cupid bow lips pulling into a soft smile. A unique facial hair on the young face. And the bright brown eyes. The speckles of gold screamed a thousand words. A thousand words.

Out of all the magical, craziest shit he has been through, seeing The Tinkerman is something of an honor and teasing punishment. He is handsome. Pretty. Gorgeous with the gentlest of eyes.

Feeling his blush when the man let out a soft throaty chuckle, he watches The Tinkerman lift the wooden spoon at him, the sweet smile turning rather coy as he pointed the spoon to the table. James stared while taking a seat silently until he mumbled out dumbly, “Y-You’re The Tinkerman.”

“My, that is quite a title.” The Tinkerman sang looking over his shoulder at James. His coy smile turning into a sweet, small, and kind smile once more.

The candle he tried to pretend he never had for this legend… brighten. Brighten so much even with all the question that is lining up. This is The Tinkerman.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

James stared at the man as he filled up seven bowls filled with… soup? It seems to be soup but it smells heavenly and he can already feel his stomach rumble at the lack of food. The Tinkerman set each bowl down, with pieces of bread and apples at each end except for one with bright blue fruit. Interesting.

Looking up, he sees Harley and Peter walking with one Tinkerwheel and then another. Goodness two tinkerwheel. No three. Oh wow… so many.

He heard the silent buzzing bringing up the rear making James itch for his book. To write everything down he is seeing. He is realizing. In worry of remembering.

Yet, he can remember why he got here in the first place. Now he is worried. Are the boys okay? Where are they if not here in this whimsical place? He was going to ask when said boys waltz in from the back. The oldest looking disheveled but tired giving The Tinkerman a brisk hug and nod. The youngest, the twins, ran through scrambling up on the table sitting by Harley and Peter. Looking far tinier compared to the boys from the village.

James looked back to The Tinkerman, seeing him remove his coat. Sitting down by the oldest boy, across from him. Fingers knitting together, the gentle smile still plastered on his face. James flickered his eyes down to the bowl of food then back to the man himself who nodded.

Hesitantly he ate a spoonful of meat, fresh, cooked in the broth. Along with rich vegetables. Something like this hearty and delicious even for the summer season.

James nodded in thanks refraining from scarfing the meal down along with the apple and bread. He took in the boys seeing nothing wrong with them at all. In fact, they look completely safe and not hurt. That is a great relief.

Hearing a throat clear, The Tinkerman bowed his head a little placing his hand on his chest gently. There James took in the fainter than air glow coming from the man’s chest. Keeping his eyes off the chest and lean body, James meets the brown eyes, “I should introduce myself, my kids, and tinkers.” He smiled eating the blue fruit slowly. Methodically. Parsing his thoughts, “I am Anthony Edward Daw.”

James took in the name, tasted it, rolled it around his tongue already liking it sounded. His candle for this man is way too bright, “I am James Buchanan Barnes. It is… It is really amazing to meet you.”

Anthony laughed delicately, that sound luxurious to his ears. A soft and deep sound wrapped around his neck like a scarf, “It is nice to meet the man who helped my kids out.” He gestured to the teen and the twins, “Harley and Peter recognize you as the man who reads to them” Anthony added with a bigger grin.

James felt himself blush more as the boys gave big grins before returning to their food.

The twins nodded in their thanks and the eldest did the same but lest muted and standoffish. Understandable. He is a strange man who made them run. A stranger at… their table. Awkward. Yeah.

“The little ones are my twins, Vision Wit Daw and Ultron Magnus Daw. The eldest here is Jarvis Daw.” Anthony spoke proudly about all three. The twin again giving big cheesy grins and the eldest, Jarvis shrugging at him.

Harley gave James a look with a smile, “You can call the old man Tony… then again, you are far older than him Buckle.”

James made a face, not angry but a face that made the twins, Peter and Harley laugh and giggles. He turned to Anthony who gave him a kind smile making his heart quiver at the look the man gave him, “I… I am 24 years, I will be 25 in a couple of months.”

Anthony nodded popping another fruit in his mouth, “I just turned 21. So I am a wee bit of youngin. Anyway, I want to thank you.”

“Hm?” James looked a little surprised at that announcement. For what? For help with the boys? They didn’t do anything wrong. It was the curse’s fault.

“For… getting them out of harm's way. They explained what happened at the market.”

“No, no. I was happy to help. The curse of the land… not saying it is your fault or anything, I have been trying to figure out the story honestly, is at fault. The shopkeep seems to forgotten your boys paid.” James gestured slowly looking at the father of three, mentor of two, and creator of so many. He watches the Tinkerflier rest gently on Anthony’s shoulder. He wonders where the other is.

Anthony seems to have a long pause when he mentioned him and the curse. Before James can study the reaction further, Anthony smiled once more, “I still have to thank you. I know… the story… er… well about myself. I am not sure about the curse, but know memory can be an ugly thing.”

James nodded in his agreement, he was not sure what made the host of the home… so uncomfortable. Did he actually cause the curse? Or does he know something? He knows about the story so why hasn’t tried to change it?

Hearing chimes and whistle, James watches as the brown eyes light up as three tinkerwheels rolls up the table, “Oh yeah! Right,” the inventor of so many Tinkerwheels and fliers started at his shoulder, “This little lady is FRIDAY. She can speak. Say hello to James Fri honey.”

“Hello, Mr. Barnes.” The glowing pink flier spoke out through a grid-like paneling. Amazing.

“Hello to you too,” James spoke kindly. He was astounded… by just everything. He rolled his shoulders when he realizes that his arm… stops hurting. His shoulder stops… feeling so heavy. Barely catching the names of the wheels. Dum-E, a little silly and a bit of a clutz, You, she likes taking things but a sweetheart, and Butterfingers, they are the most responsible out of the three. Tend to respond best to Butter, Butterfingers. He was flabbergasted that his arm stops hurting. The pounding in his skull that is a usual low buzzing is barely there now.

Anthony seems to realize this, as he shooed all the kids out. Ultron whining about not hearing fun stuff about his arm, Vision holding his brother's hand, and Jarvis walking the two out with promises of showing them cool things later.

The inventor slid back in his chair, once the kids, fliers, and wheels were gone, “Ah… sorry,” James didn’t say anything seeing how the man began to work the words out before continuing, “My kids… they got me and we managed to get you back here. You are a beefy man, let me tell you,” James blushed along with Anthony’s own blush as he spoke out about his… beefiness, “I saw that your arm has a nasty little curse to it. Whoever did it wanted something solid, but your willfulness made the curse a little shaky. Let me guess, a Hydra mage?”

James nodded, surprised by how the inventor just by looking at the arm, “Are you a mage?”

“Ah… no. I happen to know nasty curses and cursed metals. I went in and replace some of the pieces. It didn’t remove the curse completely, but the pieces in your arm that had the heaviest of the curse were easily replaceable. I had the pieces,” Anthony licked his lips quickly before continuing on, “I never learned.”

James tilted his head, not sure if he said that as an after-thought or a lie to hide something, nonetheless, the humming in his skull was quiet and he can think a little clearer now, “I thank you none the less for… all of this.”

“No worries. I am happy you got my kids home safe.”

James nodded thinking back to the whole thing that got them there, “Do you… do you know why my arm reacted so badly to the forest? And why did the shopkeep not realized your kids paid for the food? Do you visit town yourself?”

Maybe, he had a few questions begging to be answered and squirming to be let out. Anthony for his own part looked delighted and amused to be asked questions. He seems to be the type of man who enjoys being asked a million and one questions, “One, your arm was cursed and these woods are cursed. Sometimes a curse and a curse don’t like each other or the magic affiliation is all wrong. Seeing how Hydra is usually the worse affiliation to be with, I am not surprised whatever curse is on these woods reacted badly to your arm.” Anthony sipped his soup stretching, “That is my assumption at least.”

Another quick, throw comment. He is the Tinkerman, he might know more than he is letting on. Strange how he is so much younger than him. Around the missing prince’s age too.

“Two, it could the possibility of the curse latching on us. I can only guess that the curse has an easier time attaching to kids than adults. So you may return home and remember everything. The Shopkeep possibly lost his memory of their interaction. My kids and mentees told me the story.” Anthony continued forth gathering up the dishes slowly.

James stood to help, gathering up the rest of the bowls. Both walked over to another cauldron full of warm water and flower soaking. Interesting way to clean dishes. James turned to him but he felt their feet tangle and Anthony made a noise of almost falling over. Wrapping one arm around The Tinkerman’s waist, James looked at him feeling his cheeks rise in heat as Anthony’s eyes lit up and a shy smile happened, “Ah…”

“Nice catch.” Anthony stood properly patting the man’s arms gently, “Last I don’t visit the town. I have three little mischievous tinkers I watch. Jarvis goes into town with the boys. Now, they have to lay low when possible.” Anthony finished with a quiet sigh, letting his head fall back.

James looked over the man, taking in his face once more. Dark circles ringed around his eyes, knicks, and cuts on delicate hands and fingers. Strong, showing work down. Many polar opposite happening on the hands. Then a necklace of the sun draped around his neck and the faint blue glow.

Anthony followed James’s vision before he shyly covered his chest. Hands over where his nipples could be. Arms completely hiding the glow. James hissed internally to himself for being a walking oaf. Blushing more, the librarian murmured, “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to stare so nosey like.”

Anthony shook his head, shrugging his shoulders, “My fault. I forgot I never covered it.”

“It is pretty tough.” James jumped in seeing a flush starting from the neck up from the man of the tinkerwheels.

“Thank you Giaco.”

That was… something new. Something to add. He is not of this land… not completely. Something to take into account now. “Welcome, I mean it is true. I am sorry for staring so much.”

He watched Anthony let his arms fall completely till they are crossed over his stomach, “No, it is okay. I am serious. This… little light keeps me alive. A mage… saved my life a while back. He ah… never made it.”

James wanted to ask who was the mage, who house was he affiliated with but seeing the tension around his eyes, James held back those questions, “Sorry. It is… beautiful though.”

Anthony perked up a smidgen looking the ex-guardsman in the eyes, “Thank you. He called it… the guidance of Polaris. A bit silly if you ask me but it doesn’t change I am grateful for what he has done for me.”

James understood that in a way, he is grateful to Steve for not leaving him alone, he is grateful to Natasha for helping with his new life as a reader to kids, he is sort of grateful to Zola for saving his life but now he wants to hurt the mage for cursing him to be a puppet. Killing puppet. He is grateful for Anthony’s help with the curse he was given.

He let the man know this. If he got to see another blush form in shy embarrassment, James’s candle for the man himself grew brighter. Something of a moth to a flame.

The librarian spoke to the man a little longer, getting to know him. He thought back to tales about falling in love at first sight, he understands how Sam describe when he looked at Rhodes.

He also learns, he was asleep for three days, past the end of the week market, a day missing with Sam, and the visit Steve once more coming up. Funny how sleep and memories can eat away life. Anthony may have laughed at that. Never got deep into topics about the king. James would say he and the king look like brothers but the soft warmth from Anthony spoke so much difference.

James was getting ready to go, Harley and Peter have already gone before. He looked at Anthony as he escorted him to the edge of the bright green grasses end and shift into the dark green grasses of the forest. He blushed when The Tinkerman held his hand, “I have a favor… to ask.”

“Anything Anthony.”

“Keep my home, my kids, myself, and my mentees knowing me a secret.” He felt a nimble finger push back a strand of his hair behind his ear, “Can you?”

James blinked slowly, staring the man in the eyes, feeling sunset rays on their cheeks. His eyes still bright, urging, insistent, “Please.”

Leaning in a little, James nodded, “I can. I will.” He knows the curse may not affect him now or it won’t affect him in the way that it should. He can only hope.

Anthony smiled softly, but the look in his eyes spoke of sadness. Both turned seeing the twins peeking at them. Anthony shooed them off as Jarvis grabbed the youngsters from the window.

“Thank you,” He felt chaste lips on his own. Surprise at the suddenness of the kiss. He didn’t have time to react in kind when he felt the nimble fingers caress the stubble on his face, the sadness in his eyes making the browns glassy, “Get home safe Giacomo.”

James felt his eyes blink closed and nothing else.

James's eyes shot open hands out and reaching. Curled like he was grabbing someone. Who was he grabbing? He looked around his home. His little, simple, and undream like home. He awoke with an abrupt start. A startlement. The softness on his own chap lips now a ghost with the dream.

He tried to retrace the dream. Tried to remember anything from it. But it was not coming to him. A fog. A haze that is shrouding the dream from him. As the red haze but it was not so much a freezing point but more like fog on a sea. No light to guide, but the veil only thin enough for sparse images to appear.

All he can get… there was a man. A beautiful man. Kids. Bright as him. And… nothing else.

Reaching for his book, which is resting on his bed, quill sticking on the page. He opened it to the quill-marked page and found nothing but illegible scribbles except for a few words.

 _Remember_.

 _Forgetting_.

 _Curse_.

 _Don’t forget_.

 _Forgetting_.

 _A haze_.

 _Dream. Dream. Dream_.

 _Dream of Honey Browns_.

James couldn’t make heads of the description. He wished he could. He feels an ache. Now for something missing and the gobbly gook he wrote in the book about The Tinkerman. What happened between now… what 5 days ago? Is it five days ago or a day ago? He is not sure anymore. Frustrated, he shook his arms out, even determining the pain he felt with his arm was a dream itself.

Maybe Nat and Steve were right, the story is a story and he is killing himself over this… he needs to get back on routine.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The next week in a half James returned to his routines. He was happy, or as happy as he can be resuming his day-to-day lives. He went through the days reading, answering kid's questions about other fairytales, never touching The Tinkerman story. Keeping the question about why his shoulder, arm, body, in general, feels so much better. It stops the need for the balm for his shoulder. He is grateful for whatever small miracle that was bestowed upon him.

Still, in the back of his mind kept screaming at him about he is missing something. Something was stolen from him. He caught himself staring at the water, at a cup, or at the glass inside the frames, touching his lips. He was not sure what the meant for himself or what it meant for his sanity.

Steve was worried, rightfully so. Natasha was not in often now since the town and castle are swarming with mages.

The thought of magic is always giving the screaming in his mind a louder bellow of anger along with the confusion that comes with the missing in his mind. James was beyond frustrated. He wanted to go over the scrawl in the book, he needed to figure out what the hell it all meant. In the heavens had caused him to write all of that down.

At night…

At night, he felt himself dream of honey browns. Children scouring across the brightest of green grasses.

Other times, during the days of those weeks, he stared at the grass that led into the woods. Into the deep dark forest. More screaming. A tear in his throat makes him want to say something. He was not even sure what he wanted to whisper out. He returns back to his day-to-day routines.

Steve found his silence of The Tinkerman worrisome but healthy. He was not obsessing over a fictional character… more screaming, more fucking screaming. Seeing those blue eyes on him spoke of worried because he stopped mentioning the man. No, he is circling back and forth around the words in the book. Staring at the pictures he drew. Debating if he really saw all that or if his mind was so high up in the heavens they gave the overnight gift of creativity. Imaginative strength.

The time he sees Natasha begs the question of what she is up to and why she is out. It bothers him when she asks if he is interested in The Tinkerman. Not too long ago, she told him to stop speaking about the man in fear of arrest or worse. What is happening?

Did he awaken in a busted village?

Did he die actually in his sleep from the pain in his arm?

Is he swimming in the belly of the dancer, living in a teasing cycle of people who believe him but now he is not believing himself?

He wants to bash his head into the wall.

Even Sam now stares at him like he has a question about whatever. He already asked about the missing people. Sam didn’t… Sam didn’t look at him though like him not talking about The Tinkerman means he is ill.

Is he ill?

Christ, he wants the Haze back to wipe him out from thinking so fucking much.

James wandered through the market, trying to find something to keep his mind occupied. Maybe he is trying to replicate something basing on the countless amount of soups he gave to his neighbors and one huge pot for the guards. Clint was in particular excited about free food. He always got free food in a way.

The librarian shifted the meats, the veggies, and fruits around as he went from stand to stand. He thought about how when he returned some asked why he was gone for so long. What happened? Where did he go? He missed all the commotion from the week prior.

He remembers running. Following some kids. He remembers that much. Their faces were blurs. He remembers running down the alley to the same spot he stops at once in a while now. One of the guards, Rumlow he is guessing, bastard, said he was running after the kids.

Kids. Yeah.

Right, the kids who presumedly stole. Why did he run after them? The king is a big reason why he must have followed the kids, but he kept running until… yeah. Blank. Blank. Blank.

Nothing.

Blip.

Grunting in frustration he slipped his purchases in his pack and bags, till he caught a ruby-headed child… and another, look about the same age, with silver hair. Both wearing cloaks this time, letting coins fall into a shopkeep's hand.

James felt his mind twinge in pain as he tried to place face to a name, a name to a body, and body to a voice. He felt like he met those two before. He felt it deep in his heart. Frowning, James kept looking at the boys keep a long distance. Something about these two was setting him on edge and another reminder of the brown golden eyes seeping into his night sleep.

Stopping before he ran into another, he felt a cold shiver run his spine as he looked around when he spotted the young witch with the man who gave him his arm and additional life. He found those deep burgundy eyes staring at the ruby head child and his brother. He knew she was looking at them both, by the way, both boys stopped like those cats caught eating fish or meat from the kitchen pantry. He knows she is staring at them.

Adjusting his bags, James hurried over to the young magic wielder, long enough for her to break whatever she was trying to do with the kids. He knew despite what was running in his mind, James wanted to make sure those kids felt safe.

Walking up to the young Hydra mage, he gave his best well-to-do smile, “Hello, you must be Armin Zola’s young mentee.”

The woman blinked then gave him a dim but overly sweet smile. Strange, he only knew of Natasha being able to do those smiles to those who interrupted whatever she was trying to do, “Ah, hello. You must be James. Zola, yes is my teacher, he told me he saved your life.”

James caught the way her eyes did quick glances behind him. Clearing his throat, he stepped further into her eyeliner, blocking off any chances of observing the brightly-haired kids, “Yes, I am. James Barnes. Nice to meet you, ma’am.” He put his left hand out keeping his smile firmly in place.

“Wanda Maximoff.” Wanda looked him up and down shaking the left hand with zero fear, “I can tell… Zola’s handy work anywhere. Say…”

James congratulated himself for distracting her, but he hated how that was said to him, “Yes?”

“You should see Zola for a check-up while he is still in town James.” Wand a gave a sweeter smile that made James confused if he was serious or not, but then he only can see the glaze of red in her eyes fading back. Pulling his left hand back, he half-watched her eyes look at her hand then at him.

James hid his left hand, he realized a few days back as well, that his arm components were entirely different and someone else tampered (improved) with it. He wasn’t even sure what she felt but he felt the eyes scan him. Searching for whatever it is that screamed not completely Hydra’s work. Of course, it wouldn’t scream, he was hissing or screaming from the arm pain. The nightmares.

That was the good fortune of returning from his absence, but again he came back to people observing him strangely. So, so strangely.

“No, I am fine. Tell him I appreciate the offer none less.”

“He can make the pain stop,” Wanda told him matter-of-factly.

“I am fine,” James replied taking a breath as he already thought about the haze returns. He doesn’t want the haze anymore, he does but he doesn’t. Maybe he wants people to act normal… or was he never normal?

Wanda stared at him simply, quirk her lips a little shrugging, “I am happy one the best guardsman has to return. It was quite scary for people who care about you.” She bowed her head at him, swiveling on her heel, “Good day Mr. Barnes.”

Watching the young witch leave and seeing the kids gone, James breathes a shaky breath of air. A nervousness that dragged itself from the depths of innermost thoughts. Rubbing his face, he made a quiet vow not to cross her path again. He rather avoids all of that again.

At least those two kids are gone, hopefully safe.

He shuddered at that thought, a pang of déjà vu when it comes to the boys he has seen here today.

James set forth to once more try to recreate a dream meal and not to let his mind burn him.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

James felt green eyes on his back as he continued moving books from the check-in section to the places they always called home. He calls the spots the books their homes. He still felt those green orbs follow him across one bookshelf to another. He was wondering when people with big eyes of color would stop tracking him down like a bloodhound.

The librarian wasn’t even sure how he feels about this either. Two days ago proved that talking to any mages proved uncomfortable to his brain and nerve-wracking to his body. Too many questions and they all had this fucking knowing to their faces. It makes him all itchy.

Sliding another book into its correct place, James turned to see Natasha still staring at him like he has done something illegal. He stopped reading the story damn it.

“What Natasha? What? What? What?” He bit out turning to face her flicking a strand of his hair back into the messily down ponytail.

Natasha shrugged at him cocking her head to one side then to the other. Leaning against the desk, Natasha clucked her tongue at him, “You’ve still haven’t told what happened to you about two weeks ago James.”

“I told you, I don’t remember Nat,” James replied with the same answer he told her, Steve, and Sam. He doesn’t remember what happened. He sort of does actually but still!

He only knows he wakes up hard sometimes by the flash and blurs of pretty eyes, handsome features, amazing body, and a velvety voice serenading him into surrender. Maybe he actually soils his shorts at the night but other times he just sees honey browns and softness against his lips. Then bright blues, not like Steve’s or anyone else but just a bright blue. So, so bright.

“Right, okay. I believe you.”

No, she fucking doesn’t. James kept that strong accusation to himself, “Great. Can I get back to work? Yeah? Amazing. Thank you.” He did all the talking sliding another book in until he felt a presence. Jolting turning to look at her, he can only thank the heavens for allowing him not to be so deep in his routine.

“Yes, Natasha?”

“Have you heard of the kids?”

“What kids? Peter and Harley?” James asked tilting his head now, leaning lightly against the bookshelf. He already knew what she was going to ask, he already knows what she is going to ask and warn. He ain’t no goblin. Of course, there are no goblins, not since about 2,500 years ago or so they say.

“No James,” Natasha began as she places a hand on her hip, “Not those two. Two young kids, one with ruby red and another with silver metal.”

Toll the bells, James nailed it! Yet, knowing Natasha is asking, the mages are here still, the guards are active once more all pointed to those kids being searched again. More twinges, more nerves cycling through his body. More everything.

Here is where James has to bring out his haze self, the one everyone feared, everyone hated to see, the face that made it hard to tell if he was happy, angry, upset, lying, telling the truth, and everything. Staring at her, lips thinned, body straight, he keeps eye contact with his friend.

“No, I have not seen them. Pretty hard to miss.”

“I know. I am just wondering, you read to all the kids.”

“I know but no kids ever came by with the uniqueness, unfortunately, I would be of no help.”

James stared at Natasha as she did the same to him. He kept total eye contact until she nodded slow, turned away, and went back to work. As if the conversation never happened, that she wasn’t trying to dig. He knew she was gathering information but for who? Why? Great. He really should keep his book at home, away from everyone. Shit, Steve… can’t know where the book. Okay. He has to get home and do some planning.

Walking the path back to his home, James stops seeing a burlap sack by his door. He wasn’t excepting any letters, packages, or anything honestly from the lands beyond this land. He barely even remembers his time in the woods, so how the hell would he be able to remember people outside of the land territory. He doubted it made any sense to those, not of the land or the mages residing in the castle.

He really doubted if it matters to those two little boys that tugged on his brain, trying to make him remember something that felt shrouded in hidden fog.

Similar to the haze but lighter in color and not quite so… demanding.

Hurrying over to the bag, he saw a tacked-on note on his door, hidden behind the bag full of fruit. Bright blue fruits and his favored fruit out of everything. Plums. He was running low and he has to wait until the fruit vendor manages to snag trade fruits before entering the land and forgetting. People wrote themselves things if they had to leave through the woods or beyond the land.

Tedious task all that.

James felt elated. He wanted to thank who left him the sack of fruit. All the note had on it was a thank you for looking out for them. No signature of who signed. No strange aura. Honestly, if James can be a little strange at the moment, the note smelled like metal, strong metal, heat, fire, and the fruit inside this bag. It was sure a strange combination of smells. James doubted he would feel another way about it.

He opened the door grabbing the bag of fruit delicately to place them somewhere they would last or until he can make room in the cooling area of his home. He hopes an early hail comes so he can collect the ice to bundle it all together in the small section under his home.

Looking at the note, he looked out his door seeing a flashing of orange in the dimming sky and the shadow cast of the castle walls.

A tinkerflier. Bright orange, flashing proudly and at him. He is assuming it was flashing at him and not at someone else but, seeing the Tinkerflier hover there still, he waved at it. Then it was off.

James thought about chasing it, see where it would go back he watch zip off into the unknown. Into the shadows, among the rooftops and it was gone.

Standing there a little longer, the ex-guardsman looked at the sky, the fruit, then the note. He didn’t want to assume, but… if that is a Tinkerflier then it would mean it is from the Tinkerman. That means those kids are the man’s children. But then the twinge, the pain in the back of his head is shoving away those memories, enshrouding anything more about the bright-haired children.

Frowning, he has closed the door gradually only to stop noticing a heavy-set man stare at him from the distance. He knows this man, Stane. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Stane watched the whole interaction. Fucking heavens to all the belly of the dancer greed. He knows this man knew he saw him. He knows Stane caught the whole distant interaction unfold.

He knows this man is already assuming the worse about it.

James is the one who reads the story wholeheartedly. Is the one who was brought before the king about it. Asked his best friend about it. Was missing for five days, perfect working arm with little to zero pain. And no infamous haze the lurches forward on some days. This very moment with some fruit and waving the tinkerflier.

Fucking shit. Damn. This was bad but… all James did was close his door. Lock it. Closed the curtains and shutter, after giving a dead gaze look to Stane. Making sure the man was gone. He went through meticulously hiding the note, the book, and his scrolls on anything tinker-related deep inside his home, somewhere even Steve wouldn’t dare to look. He hid all in the room his mother closed her eyes one last time, the one he made his study if he ever used. The one that felt warm but so lonely.

Sliding a board out of place, he looked at the last of the jewels his mother had been given after the funding from their father was used for him. He remembers his sister, but he doubts she remembers him. She could, but she left before she turned 18.

Slipping the scrolls, book, and note together under the jewels and empty jewelry box, James rolled his shoulders and popped his neck.

He knows tomorrow is going to be eventful. Tomorrow is going to be filled with the excitement of Stane blabbering. Assuming. Persuading. Then the interaction with the witch. Fuck, he didn’t even realize how deep in hot water he was in till now.

Moving the board back in place, reaffirming that wood didn’t look anywhere out of place, James nodded. He felt that if he is taken, he would say he threw the book out, the note away because he thought someone was pranking him.

Village loon, with a candle for fiction, a legendary man. Taller than tall tales themselves. It makes sense. Who knows, he can get away with the lie if the mages are not there.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

In the line of wakefulness and warmth of sleep, was when James felt the rumble of guards, some worse, and the distant sound of chains. They seem to forget he had a wizard imbued him fucking magic. Fucking magic! So he heard, listened, felt. The guards were coming to his home. He can only guess what that is for. Only one crime, that would get James in constant trouble and huge warnings that can be considered a damning traitor hood to the king of the land.

The librarian huffed out of his sleep, flipped on his back. Rubbing a hand down his face he reaches with the other for a shirt or something covering his chest. He wants to be decent before they haul him off to the burning king. He would like to his lashes, his burns, he brandishing iron with dignity.

Slipping on a vest, pushing his back in a low ponytail. Splashing cold, cold water on his face. Pants, shoes, and the works in the place. He stood at attention, falling in civil posturing stance in front of his old team. Staying stoic and strong even if it means he gets tortured in front of them at the castle.

First, Steve opened the door, apologetic at first but putting a brave face. Duty before friends and all that good stuff. Then Peggy. Last Carol. Ah, they weren’t going to force him out by tooth and nails. He was told he actually did that to someone during his time on duty.

“James Barnes,” Carol started, armor glittering in the morning rising sun, “You are to be taken to the king for personal questioning on the accounts of the advisor Stane has stated you’ve seen. You have the choice to speak now or wait till you are facing the king himself.”

Concise and to the point, is something James can never blame any of them for. James shrugged a little and started walking out. Head held high, chin up, back straight, and shoulder rigidly. He knows what he was getting into.

The rest of the guards, who were not escorting him stayed close by. James already spotted a few archers hidden away. They were afraid he goes into his haze and that would have to put him down. Put him down before he hurt someone. Smart, but not needed. He wasn’t needed, he would do the same to himself. If it was Steve or Peggy who suggested, he is not mad. Again smart.

The walk to the castle was a quiet affair. James kept his lips sealed. He only counted two missings, meaning that they are poking around his home. Evidence. Planted evidence. Whatever. Honestly, he should have been in jail a long time ago for having an arm that is basically like a tinker arm. Yet again, Zola’s work compared to his arm now… was night and day.

Rolling the said shoulder, James sighed under his breath as the castle came up closer. Then Peggy whispered quietly to him, “You are not in trouble, trust me, James. A wonderment is all to what you have seen.”

Nodding, James walked in with the three hearing Steve picked up, “Pegs is right Bucky. There is nothing to worry about. I mean, I am worried but you didn’t anything.”

James bit his tongue as he wanted to rejoice or snidely mention that Howard would not think of that. Thinking about Howard, set something else off in his brain. He wasn’t sure but something about mentioning Howard is bothering him. That twinge is back again. Right, get through this fucking show and then worry about headaches.

In the castle, he was escorted all the way to the king’s and his court battle room. He hasn’t been here in years. Now he is back but not for fun. Being gestured to take a seat by Carol. He listened to his friends walking out, leaving him with the dragon of branding.

There Howard is sitting like a man on his throne, high and mighty. Ruler of all but like he’s on the edge of screaming. Like James is that person who is the cog, funny, jarring up his plans. James not even sure if this man can plan but shit, James doesn’t want to know.

He notices there is no one else but them in the room and possibly two guards outside the door. That doesn’t mean, they are completely alone. They aren’t. James knows they aren’t. The magic council, all houses, courts, and circles are here. He knows they are listening or watching.

Staring at the king's face, James blinked a few times. He has seen that face but softer, warmer, kinder, and the eyes so bright. Unlike Howard’s. Still, he has seen that face but that face he has seen is so much better. Something teases him, a bit fuzzier than other dreams are like.

He eyed the king as the king stare him down with all the irritable disdain that a king like himself would hold for a villager like himself. James was sure the king would either have his left arm rip off his body and him burned or a long-winded lecture about even still on the whole Tinkerman thing. He wasn’t anymore but safe to say, he still of the mind that this was not the world he was in originally. Despite him knowing everything is the same.

“James, you are a great man, were an amazing guardsman,” Howard stared coolly, praising him but also giving the grim disappointment that the librarian quit. James gave everyone his reasons, every reason why he stopped doing the whole guard duty. The haze, which has not returned in a while, was the biggest reason why he stops. Next was the pain in his arm. Last he was tired of killing. Tired of fighting. Well, James will listen to whatever spiel Howard, King Howard has for him, “Now, I want your complete and loyal honesty James, I know I have told you about not speaking of that man. Stane, spoke you, have been given a gift of fruit by a flier of machines.”

Tinkerflier. Yeah, James knew that Stane would weasel to Howard and speak on the events that happened last night. James could say yes but to what?

“I have been given fresh fruits. But I have not seen a tinkerflier, I did see a bird fly off before night fell.” James answered smoothly even knowing that he may be casting an unspoke claim that Stane is lying. Stane has been known to lie so James was simply using what he knows.

Howard eyed him, possibly trying to find the lie between those words. James took in the way his lips curled up into a half form snarl before it relaxed back in a simple grim frown, “Really?”

“Yeah. A big bird. They tend to flock. Maybe the fruit attracted a rodent and the bird was waiting. I must have scared it off.” James was going on automatic response. He knows Howard may have someone, anyone watching him closer. Whoops, not like he asked for the fruit.

“Right, have you seen any… strange boys recently?”

“No. I haven’t seen anything strange, well besides the cat trying to steal fish out of the fishbowl or would you count seeing Hemidall naked?” James smiled kindly head tilted in such a way that usually made Miss May and Mrs. Keener swat him for trying to be a boyish scoundrel. All fond. But this move he notices got him out of a many of a lecture with other elders. He can tell though the king was not moved at the cute head tilt and the big eyes James was sure he was doing.

“Mhm, if you have seen anything peculiar, please do tell anyone. Even Steve, if you feel most comfortable in confiding in him.” The king suggested in such a way that he is a friend of James.

The librarian knows better, sees beyond those dark orbs that the king sees no more of than an issue, and if the king could, he would have James made of an example for being “curious”, but keeping his suspicions of the king under wraps, James nodded shooting a bright smile, “Of course. Anything else?”

“No, you are free to go.”

“Have a good day.” James bowed his head curtly walking out the door. Back straight, shoulders stiff, and eyes facing forward. He is refusing to meet anyone else in the eyes in case his own icy blue melted away into feelings and emotions.

James wasn’t active when he returned home, unescorted, not followed, and exhausted. All he did was sit there, lie, and smooth his way around the King from knowing he knew more. Based on his book He has to understand more about what happen himself from the days he was gone, why everyone is even bothering to ask him.

They all said he needs to stop talking about The Tinkerman. James has stopped talking about him verbally but never stops thinking about the story for it as a story. Now, now though realizing that the whole village, guardsmen and everyone else is in a buzz about the story, maybe there is some truth to the matter.

He went to the study, pulled out the book, scrolls, the jewels, and so forth. He put his mother’s things to the side and eyed the book, the smooth writing on the cover, saying the man’s name. The everything. Flipping to the pages he re-read the will of not forgetting, remembering, trying to hold on to something.

What he trying to tell his future self, the self now. He thought back to that fuzzy dream, the touch against his lips that was distant but felt so close.

Why did he urge himself not to forget? Forget what?

Then forgetting what, James remembers the two boys he had distracted the young Hydra witch from. Bright hair, odd, unique, something different. Then a tugging. An incessant tugging in the back of his mind.

Turning back down to the book, reading the last few sentences, honey brown eyes. Honey brown eyes. Bright ruby-red hair, bright silver-grey hair. Bright everything.

What is he trying to gain from making his head hurt, but he returns back to the memory? The memory of the boys. The Tinkerflier. A bright orange blinking gently as it flew away. His own urge to chase and follow. Pass the grass, past the tree line, into… something.

His arm, that was another thing on top of the Haze being gone. All occurring after his return.

Treeline, into the woods. What else?

Tapping the book, the librarian stared at the words, re-reading them. For the life of him, he wanted to know what they mean. Honey browns. Soft lips. Honey browns. Fixed arm. Honey browns. Young kids. Harley and Peter telling him the story he has is wrong. Young boys red hair and silver hair. A teen… with orangish eyes. Tinkerwheels and fliers. The Tinkerman. Honey Browns.

Growing frustrated, he scrubbed his face until he feels his skin beginning to feel raw. He wanted something to scream out at him. Jump out at him. But all his mind kept doing was swirling around Honey brown eyes, dream, the young boys, and the forest.

Standing up he lurks himself into his bed, face in the pillow not bothering his clothes. He was beyond exhausted now by forcing his mind to… think. Maybe, the words were telling him, don’t forget Honey Brown eyes, a dream of honey brown eyes and remember. Remember what, he is not sure but he sure tomorrow morning would yield more answers.

_Bright eyes stared at James, as he stands in a comfortable home, the smell of stew being cooked. A man in a tattered coat, cooking the stew. Then he looked at him, honey brown eyes, a gentle soft pull of the lips. Then the name on his lips coming out delicately._

“Tony!” James sat up in bed staring around at the moon-lit sky and his empty bedroom. An empty bedroom that felt colder. He wasn’t sure why he got that dream, but seeing the eyes jolted him, hearing the name shook him up. Here though, he wrote down The Tinkerman’s name and then…

This is Vision and Ultron.

The boys. James wrote the boys' names down, he can only assume who was who but still, the boys' names.

A bigger question now, why and how did he forget? How come he has forgotten. Why in the world would he forget anything that happens in the woods. In those woods that he helped those boys escape from the guards.

Rushing out of bed, James hurried to get his pack together, a coat, and a rush to get to the woods, to figure out how he loses memory or memories like that. He can’t say it is the haze, that is gone. But then what? Was it the curse? If so, could he find a way to counteract it, or were the flowers wards themselves?

He needs to figure it out.

Slipping past the guards, avoiding being seen in the dead of night, only being guided by the moon itself. James hurried to the green-blue-looking grass. He walked silently among the sleeping flowers, into the dark woods. For himself his let his feet carry him. Carry him on a path that he followed in a rush. A rush he is in now.

He kept walking until, the tree he fell by. He looked down seeing his similar shoes on the dirt path. He was here. That means if he can go a little further. A little closer. He might be able to get to Tony and them and figure out why he has forgotten.

Walking further past the spot he passed out, he looked at the beaten path. A path that people going into town would take until the beaten path fades into… nothing.

He looked around, wander up and down until he touched the air in front of him. The air rippled then shimmered out an array of colors that to a rainbow. A bright rainbow after the darkest storms. He pulled his hand back surprise to himself there is a shield and the way he can see, the shield may be huge. What is it for? Who cast it? Why?

James walked alongside the shield, letting his left hand touch and awaken the shield. It was expansive he noted down. The longer he followed, the more he realized the shield is encapsulating something from within. Whatever it is, the illusion of more woods is set. He would have changed the beaten path but again, who would go out here when the fear of a Tinkerman ghost or a Tinkerwheel getting them? James is the type of person who would.

He stopped short of his investigation when in the distance twinkling multiple color lights fluttered, moved about in the darkness of the woods. He can only assume these are Tony’s, he remembers Tony is the Tinkerman, Tinkerwheels moving about. But The light that captured him the most was the bright blue. Meaning, it is Tony. Should he go? He shouldn’t in fear of, he wasn’t sure, but it is a fear that he does not want to experience right now.

He kept quiet and watch. He watches a long time, seeing the lights twinkling out like stars fade into the darkness.

One by one, each light, red, blue, orange, pink, dark orange, orange-blue, and purple. Everything that followed the brightest star. Each one winked away into the colorful iridescent shield.

James turned away, he was not sure if he would be able to get in the shield without whatever happened before happening again and he forgets them all again. His eyes met up with a new person's eye. It is surprising he didn’t hear the new person approach, much less, “Q-Queen Maria.”

Queen Maria gave him a kind smile but her eyes were set firm. Questioning. Accusing. And untrusting. He was not sure what he has done to earn her ire. He was not even sure if her gaze was called for.

“Sir James, what brings you on this find mid-summer’s night?”

James swallowed back a nervous blow of breath, but here he takes in one the wind rustles the trees, the moonlight casting a white glow on her where sees she in a dark cloak, a bag over her shoulders, and villager type clothing. Her crown not in place. Her jewelry at a minimum and she herself looking to be in a rush herself.

“I suppose so, yes.” The librarian nodded in agreement even when his throat felt clogged with questions he has so much about.

“I am sorry Howard had brought you in for questioning. I am not sure why he believes Stane.” She spoke softly but the hardness in her eyes never left.

What did James do to keep getting that look from the queen of this land, or would-be queen if she is leaving, “Yes, but I was honestly only telling half-truths? He believed me, I am guessing.” James shrugged one shoulder. He wonders what the queen is trying to suggest or even tell him.

“That is good, I have one last request for you, as your queen for this night alone,” Queen looked at him in her big hazel eyes, the wrinkles more apparent as she stood tall and proud. He nodded to her request, “Do not return here.” She held her hand up silencing James from asking or refusing her, “Not because, I don’t trust you, but for the reason that, anyone could be watching you now. I don’t want you or anyone else to get hurt.”

Feeling her hand on his shoulder, he watched her stare at him before seeing her eyes, hearing the unspoken warning about being returning here. But, a part of him couldn’t keep it. James remembers Tony. He remembers the boys. He remembers that Peter and Harley were here. The memories returning and his silence thickening to keep this for himself as long as he can. He glances at Maria in the eyes feeling his back straighten up, her hand squeezing. He wanted to ask what her knowing with Tony is but he knows she won’t say.

He watches the now ex-queen walk into the shimmer, so smoothly, and gone. He stared at the shimmer seeing nothing of Maria. Maybe he should of asked her, her knowledge about Tony. How she knows him. Maybe get that answer that she won’t respond with anything of value. This interaction was enough. He now knows that Maria is someone close to Tony. He also knows Maria kept her knowing about the Tinkerman a secret. That she planning to always leave and fade away.

He returned home with swirling thoughts but one thought prevailing through all… how would the king react to the disappearance, the running away of the queen?

James hopes it is not outright violent.


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

James mind constantly went back and forth on what the ex-queen had told him. Relayed to him. About not returning to the shield. To Tony. To the two boys that were wanted by the king. James connecting the dots, lines, the points to why the king wanted those two little boys, Ultron and Vision he believes were their names.

The librarian stared at the books in the library, wandered up the rows, columns of books. Books and scrolls that hold the knowledge of yesteryears and none about Tony. Why Maria was so protective. He can’t ask Natasha, he has an inkling that she knows something or want to know something. She hasn’t asked him why he has not picked up the Tinkerman story. Well, he met the Tinkerman and he was indefinitely drawn to him. The memories of his time with the man is still hazy but the memories that came to him is bright and vivid.

James rubbed his face leaning against a wall staring out the window, watching the people he saw, talk, and lived next to almost all of his life. All of it felt confusing. Like a lie. Like… something in this village is shrouded unspoken history. The groundsman in James is screaming out to investigate and the librarian in him gestured gently to learning and studying.

Pulling himself off the wall, he wandered over to the now-empty reading circle, the kids gone, or all should be gone, standing back the entryway to the door is Harley and Peter.

How did they get in?

Where was Natasha and why hasn’t she told him they were still here?

Does he have to walk them home?

He knows Mrs. Keener and Miss May tend to be busy with closing up or working. Maybe they wanted company till their mother and aunt came by for them.

Pushing the thoughts on figuring who is Maria, who is Tony, and their connection. There has to be a connection between The Tinkerman and the ex-queen of the land. He walked over to the two brightest boys he has ever met. Upon closer inspection, the two boys had bags on their backs. Cloaks, heavy around their shoulders. It is late summer but, for the life of him can’t understand why… unless.

“Harley, Peter, you and your families heading somewhere?”

James watched as Peter's face crumble a little from the soft smile to a hard frown. Harley frowned also but not so hard like his companion but there was a hint of anger simmering in the young boy’s eyes. A hardness that shouldn’t be there. They are usually so bright and welcoming. Of course, they are also the ones who like The Tinkerman story and got him started on his self-imposed investigation.

“Somewhere like that,” Harley spoke softly scuffing the floor with his smithing boots. The thing they do with their mentor. Their mentor works with mechanical wonders and technology that is so like his arm, unique and utterly amazing.

“Yeah, our mentor thinks we have an easier time away from here… after something happened.”

James watched as Harley try for a playful shrug but it came off as a shoulder for support. What happened since he been sleeping and trying to solve it? How out of the loop is he? He has to talk to Sam. Maybe, he can see if Tony can help once he finds a way into the shield again.

“I am glad your mentor thinks it might alleviate the problems if you spent some time away, building and creating new… things…” James breathed deeply when he felt a tingle of pain seep through his mind and two headlight brown and blonde running in a back with tinkerwheels.

He heard Harley make a relief type of noise as he let his head fall back, “We locked Miss Romanov in the supply closet. She is going to get out soon Mr. Barnes.”

James wanted to laugh that Nat got duped by two kids but the other question is why would they do this? They knew Tony. They know Tony. Always knew and that is why they told him that the story isn’t true.

“You… you knew the real Tinkerman.”

Peter blushed shyly but not denying with a little shrug, packs heavy, “Mr. Tony thinks it would be safer for us to leave but Mr. Barnes…”

“If you want through that shield,” Harley looked the librarian in the eyes, little big baby blues narrowed on him, soft face looking firm in this instance, “You either push your way through or you forget what you saw and what you learn. Keep on reading that false story. Your choice.”

James blinked slowly as two boys nodded him as he agreed to whatever was unsaid, he really wishes people would ask properly, but they were gone. They left swiftly, quietly, and into the darkening sky. He knew where they were going. Where they were headed and past that. The librarian stood at the door even when Natasha got of the closet swearing she is going to skin those two, no matter they are James’s favorite.

James doesn’t have the heart to tell Natasha that she won’t have a chance because they are gone. As he goes to the back office to finish up the last of his duty, he felt his heart go heavy at the thought that Tony thinks the boys are unsafe here in the kingdom but knowing Howard, knowing how he has spies everywhere now. He understands. Is May safe? Is Mrs. Keener okay?

Closing the office door behind him, James looked down seeing a hurriedly scrawled note from, possibly one of the boys.

“Archive, under the library, section 46-5764 SD… royal tree.” Looking around being thankful the windows were made with stained glass windows and wooden shutters. Making sure the shutters were a lock, James pocketed the note, walking out glad Natasha was not there.

Actually, when he left the office, she was not there at all, not even a neat note about being back later or see you tomorrow. James more grateful, it means that something is not right. Nothing has been right since the mages and wizards have entered the castle.

James made his way home stopping when he spotted Sam putting up a poster. An image. He felt his throat clench up seeing the person on the new wanted poster.

“Yeah, I don’t even know why either…” He heard Sam speak with his own shared frown. They were the only two in front of the town bulletin board, but all James can hear is the rushing water in his ears and the rise of anger. Right next to Ultron and Vision.


	15. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W: Child endangerment for the next few chapters and kidnapping.
> 
> Tony will explain more about himself soon. James's candle for Tony is ridiculously bright. I am an Ultron sympathizer, on the idea if he was made in a more stable environment and in a safer time frame, maybe he would been like Vision or been like FRIDAY. Yeah, I did a bad. XD

Chapter 14

James swallowed back his anger and bile looking at Sam, “Why Aunt May?”

“Again, I wish I knew. One minute she was selling her clothes, blankets, and covers, next guardsman, ones I have never seen at all, not Steve, Peggy, Carol, hell even Rumlow, come and grab her up. She went quietly, you know, strong woman. But, her crime, from what I can tell is insane.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck as James turned back to the wanted posters and those who have been arrested. Kids and an old lady, “The king is going insane. I swear he and his entire circle of mages are all nuts. Power does that to the person, make them blind. Shade their eyes and blinds them.”

James agrees, he wholeheartedly agrees. Oh he agrees, that means, Peter and Harley could have been in trouble. Mrs. Keener could be next. He wouldn’t have know until he saw their faces on this board. He has to talk to Tony, he has to get people who know him out of this kingdom. God damn it, this was not good. Howard is losing it. The Burning King, who burns, engulfing everything in his path.

“Sam… if you could leave…”

“I would. I might. I know you have people here. I do too, but, how this is going, I will take a chance at being forgetting and wandering somewhere safer than be here under a man who would kill people to set a standard.” James felt Sam’s eyes on him, waiting for him to say whatever James was not sure he was trying to say in the first place. Christ, he can’t even think, the note in his pocket weighing heavy, his book full of notes about Tony, his sons, and the tinkerwheels, trying to drag him to the ground.

“I will see you later or if you leave… I will see you again.” James spoke quickly turning back to head to the library quickly. There he would figure what the hell this all meant, the note the young boys who may be long gone now. Hopefully out of the range of the wizards. Is Mrs. Keener with them? Did the four of them know only three can leave while one stayed calm like it was all normal? Shit.

Entering the library, he paused hearing two unfamiliar voices, ransacking the library. Crouching low into the shadow, holding his breath he watches the men hooting and howling in joy while they tear books, books of knowledge, wisdom, and understanding. Fun. Journeys. Experiences told through words. Adventures and wives tales to keep kids and people in line but curious about the world.

He would fight them both. Oh, he would go tackle them down, but if they are here, that means they might be here for him, Natasha, or for both of them. James can’t handle the thought that they would be after Sam, Steve, and her because they associate with him. The guy who talks to the two boys who are gone. The ex-guardsman distracted the witch from tracking the young ruby and silver-haired child. Now, he knows Howard doesn’t believe him when he said he saw a strange thing in his life. The witch may have mentioned he seen those boys. Mistake one, he should have covered all his corners.

This means, as James swallowed down anger and bile, that the King wanted Tony. Why?

Keep his mind clear, eyes sharp, and breathing even, James slipped further into the shadows, mourning in his mind for his books. He was happy he was able to maneuver just as easily with one hand how he could with both hands. James didn’t want to take chances that these men heard them when they look for more things to wreck.

James counted that the men grown bored, they didn’t find anything valuable, and that means they didn’t find the archive. Waiting for them to leave, the librarian hurried in the now dark library to the very back, the very, stepping over town books, stomped pages, broken ink wells, and misshapen quills.

He stopped at a carpet, with beautiful geometric shapes, as he remembers he bought from Miss May. He hopes she is okay.

He bought the carpet because he didn’t want to have to organize the archive or even categorize the books and scroll down there. He left everything as is, and he is gladder for it because apparently, those boys were down there enough to find the thing, they wanted him to look at.

Pulling the carpet away, James stepped down the dusty stone slab. Moving away from the webs and eying the larger room under the small little library he has called his job for about 5 years now.

He took out the note, going over to a lantern left on a decades-old desk, he is surprised that is it still standing where it was left for all these years. He is more surprised that the lantern had oil left in it. He can’t be sure how often or long the boys were down here. Down here in this musty place to get the information on this supposed information.

Flicking on the lantern, James's eyes widen at the rows and rows of books and scrolls. Not any old books. Royal books. Generations of books by the royal family of this land. Alliances. Allegiances. Wars. Rivalries. Treaties. Battles. Kings, queens, and so forth. Everything that would shed light on the kingdom if one wanted to know. The supposed library of kings that was… burned to the ground. Another story told those who asked about the ancient library, that the Tinkerman burned down as to hide the crime of the prince. But, Tony is around his age, so… how can he be there years ago?

Lifting the lantern further up, James looked at the section he is in search of and went to find the Royal Tree SD.

James searched long for the section, longer for the book until alas, he found the book. Golden edged, the Stark emblem and crest etched into the rich old leather book. Lifting it gently from its home, the librarian sat down in his spot. Lighting a candle, he turned off the lantern settling in for a deep dive into a book.

The feeling of the time he went on the search for the real story, the missing story about Tony. He isn’t a wife's tale, he isn’t a legend, but he is a missing piece. A piece faded out from the village and kingdom.

_Stark family tree, date back 4,000 years ago, age of Goblins. Intelligent class of people. Bright stars or cold abyss. Longest running family. Started with Harold Smithson Stark, Georgina Ellisa Stark, ruling queen till son took over. Stark, stark, Stark, STARK._

_Howard Stark, youngest ruler. Took the throne age 15. Married Maria Carbonell, duchess of Sicilano. The eldest daughter of Lady Daw and Sir Carbonell. One sister. One brother. Rulers up to the current date._

_One child, child missing. Name. Antonio Edward Carbonell-Stark-Daw. Mother and nursemaid called the young prince..._

“Tony…” James stared at the semi-fade inked drawing of the bow, bright eyes, chubby cheeks, in detail black and white. He looked at Maria’s drawn face. In the images, he can’t put a finger on it, but Tony doesn’t have Maria’s eye shape or her own softness. There is something more. Always more when he thinks about the man who has his candle.

He looked at the book more, then rubbed his face blowing a breath of resembling shock. Tony is the missing child. Tony is the crowned prince, that should have taken the throne from a king who is becoming power corrupt. Tony didn’t die and Tony didn’t kill. Tony is the same two people. And, that means, Howard knew. He knows. He knows and might be trying to find Tony, to actually kill him off. Shit. The boys. Shit. He himself is in trouble then. Fuck. Fuck. Shit, fuck. Crap.

James put the book in his pack. Hefted it across his chest, and he hustled out of the musty old royal archive. Out into the now lighting up sky. He was down there all night. He doesn’t have time though. He can feel his adrenaline running. Something about learning and connecting the dots makes something excited addicting. But this feeling, knowing children are in trouble doesn’t help ease him off the kick boost of energy. Shit, he now figuring Aunt May knows. Knows about Tony and is keeping it a secret for the sake of her nephew. Damn it, Howard.

Walking out of the library, trying to appear casual, he spotted no Natasha arriving for her morning shift. He can’t trust her then. He hurried along, not seeing Sam but a new crier. Did Sam take off? Christ. He might have. Good, at least the sometimes asshole got out safe.

He listened to the morning announcements, as he tried to appears causal. He felt eyes on him, trained eyes on him, surrounding him. Choking him. Trying to keep him on lockdown. No, not now.

“Queen Maria is missing as of this morning!”

James knows where she went to last but where she is at now. Keep walking. Get home.

“A guard is found dead this last night prior!”

Not Steve, Carol, or Peggy. Good. Keep walking, keep walking. None of the Howlies either. Good also. Keep walking Barnes.

“Silver-haired child is blame! Wanted alive for the king! Reward in place!”

Ultron. A child. Fuck, no, that doesn’t make sense. Another memory, another hush. They had the spell on their person. A curse or blessing to have people forget their faces. What is happening? Don’t panic. Don’t let anyone watching see. No Clint. No Natasha. No Rumlow. No Schmidt. Steve. Timothy. Mages. Cho. None of them. Hurry home.

Home.

Home.

Home… no. James needs, he wants to find the boys. Make sure they are okay. Ultron and Vision are never apart from what he can tell. No, he has to find those kids, before anyone else does. Get those two through that shield and back Tony.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

James firmed, kept his pack close to his body, turned off course. It was time to fall back into the very thing he renounced years ago. From the corner of his eye, he saw a flare of red and gust of silvery-white zipping in and out of view. He is being followed or they are following a path he got lucky on picking.

The librarian ducked, slipped, and hid in the shadows of the town. Trying to outpace the two magic wielders. He bobbed and weaved through the crowded afternoon crowds. Eyes flickering over a see of heads. One bright silver hair kid, that is the target. The mission.

No red haze. He has a focus and he is not blinded by the need for violence.

James pretended to pet a cat, he bought a plum, he slipped into shops and acted like he was gathering stuff for the long break he may be taking. All of this is a façade. A small trick. A charade as to keep the noses off him while he tries to out beat magic users. Yeah, magic is great, he lives because of it, but if it uses to hurt a child or anyone, then it isn’t great. It is not great for the intent, especially for Hydra apprentices.

Keeping up appearances, he asked when will Mrs. Keener get back. If Miss May would be getting out soon if she is innocent. Most say, the king doesn’t have a valid case against Miss May, to avoid a horde of angry villagers, then he would let her go, no punishment. Make sense. Gladly, that eased something in James’s heart.

When he asked about the child, James wanted to ignite the village on fire or the people’s houses that wanted the young boy to be put to death. For scaring away the queen, lies. For killing the guard, he doubts it. He doubts it so much.

Giving his thanks, he left quickly. James wondered if he told the people that the queen left of her own accord. That he knows the real prince and Tinkerman. That they are the same person, but he wonders if he would get shot before he utters anything about the Tinkerman. He knows Birdeyes is watching him too.

Throughout the rest of the day, he didn’t find anything and the young mages were gone before sundown. James sighed, at least maybe the boys were hiding out till nightfall. Escaping into the green grasses through the dark woods.

He hopes they are safe and at least ate something.

The ex-guardsman walked up to his home steps, seeing a later, see you one day soon, by Sam. He left. James hopes he remembers why he left and doesn’t return. He hopes he finds Rhodey. Get something. One day, he wonders if he and Sam would cross paths again. Shaking his head out of the clouding fog, James slipped the note in his book bag.

He set his bag down, stretching out the soreness he felt from the day search. Maybe he can try again tomorrow. He twisted and rolled his shoulders as he wanders further into his home only to stop, seeing bright red eyes glowing in the dark. James jumped already in action grabbing the closest object, that it is a sword, his old sword he occasionally polished and sharpen.

The thing with the red orbs stared at him, to expressive, scared, confused, and angry. So very angry. So much hurt and confusion. Then, James peered closer, the whole body, the face, was gunmetal, an armor built grey. Making the red eyes stand out. No hair. Small. Young. What is it? Is it Tony’s more tinkers?

“Who are you?” He asked keeping at the sword aimed.

The little thing covered itself up blood glowing eyes went down, arms crossing over to hiding their body, “I am… I am Ultron, Mr. Barnes.”

James heard a loud clattering and the metal-looking boy, how is this possible, jolting scared. His shoulder hunching inward, body curling in on himself. James mumbled a hurry curse going over to kneel in front of the boy.

“U-Ultron… what happened to you… um, everything?” James felt stupid for not asking a more pressing question, such as did you actually murder the guard. From what he heard, the man's face was bashed in and his throat was a dark purple.

“My… my father and creator… made me and gave him the ability… shift my form.”

“Give yourself a human appearance,” James replied gently, even when the rolling rock wheel crushed under the weight of the gravity. The number of questions. How was Tony able to do this? How is this possible if Tony is only a tinkerer? Unless… no, no time. Right now, he has a scared kid, metal or not, needing comfort.

Grabbing a blanket, James wrapped it around Ultron’s tiny form, bundling him up, “Where is Vision?”

“Back home…”

Why was he by himself here? He is always with Vision, “Why are you in town by yourself?”

The metal child made a conflicted noise, as he tugged on the blanket, the metallic gears and pulleys tugging. Letting off a quiet hiss of steam, “Viz, he lost his toy. I wanted to find. I found but…. A guard stopped me from taking it.”

Oh heavens, did he actually kill that guard, “Ultron, what happened next, the truth, please? I trust your words, okay?” James got out all of his ask and explanation before the young child could utter a reply. He waited till Ultron gave him a stiff nod.

“I-I told him it wasn’t the kids in this place their toy. It was made by Jarvis. Jarvis made both our toys. He didn’t believe me. I kicked his leg and he dropped the toy. I grabbed it and was about to run,” James heard a hitch in the metal voice box, something that shouldn’t be possible. Then as if by magic, the boy form started to shift, from hard metal to warm soft skin, then a bubble of tears began forming. He rubbed the blanket into his eyes, as James rubbed the young boy's shoulders gently. Comforting him and letting him know that he can continue when he is ready, “He-He fell. I was… I was going to run. I got the toy, Vision would be happy. I didn’t care about being scolded by my dad. But then, the man started to scream. He was looking at me for help, he kept screaming. And screaming. And screaming,” Ultron's voice cracked as he spoke in broken hurried sentences, watery tears curving down his face. Redness in cheeks brightening, and his body shaking. James knew this is going to haunt this boy, he hopes he can help. Hugging the little boy, James held him close, feeling tiny arms wrap around his neck, sob echoing out from the child.

If the child was metal, maybe he would believe that he killed the guard in defense, but he can only assume, Ultron stayed more human than tinker, “Breath, you are safe.”

Ultron coughed out, sniffling, still crying as he held for dear life to James. James can really say, the child’s life is in danger, “I-I didn’t kill him! I swear! I wanted the toy. But… he was screaming, his throat turning purple. And then, he started slamming his head into the wall. He just kept doing it. Doing it, until pink stuff and his… inside juices… splattered everywhere. Even on me. Not the toy… but… he kept doing it until he toppled over. The red juices went everywhere. He stared at me. He never blinked Mr. Barnes. He never blinked. I know he passed to the Heavens… but he didn’t even get to blink one last time. He was so empty… an-and he looked at me like I did it. I didn’t it.” Ultron started back up, his body vibrating in fear and the traumatic experience he witnessed, “I-I ran. I tried to clean my clothes. I tried. But then I heard the announcement, I saw the poster boards, I am wanted. For murder. I didn’t do it… I just wanted to get Viz’s toy and go home. I got scared… I remember seeing you walk down, here, saw the bag, and I got in through the back window… I just wanted to go. I am not bad… I don’t want to be bad.”

James felt the renew trembles in the tiny framed body, the harsh sniffles, and sobbing. His quiet chant of sorry broke the librarian's heart. He knows a story, a fictional and a non-fictional. He knows where the lies can easily be used to trick someone. Ultron wasn’t lying.

Holding the young child close, James shushed him, “I am going to get you home. You are good Ultron. Very good.”

Ultron looked at him with his bright red orbs, watery and soft. Hands still clinging to James’s shirt, “P-Promise?”

“I promise. Promises can’t ever be broken or then it is a lie.” James smiled a little more, hearing the young boy’s giggle.

Setting him down, James watches Ultron hurry to put on his clothes and get the toy. A well-made little stuff unicorn, beautiful. All of this, because the guard on duty, was trying to take from a child. Maybe he deserves that death. Not that it happened in front of a child, but death nonetheless.

James felt the red orbs on his face as the young child pulled his head back, “My dad… he said something like you said. I like it… could you really get me home?”

“Yeah, but we have to go now,” James looked at the boy, still wrapped in the blanket. He lifts the extra fabric up and over the silver-haired child’s head, tying the corners to keep around his shoulders. Lifting up the child, James looked him in the eyes, “You know how to get through the shield?”

“Intent, nice intent. That is what dad said the magic does.”

James nodded at the answer, it is the best he can get. He has concerns about getting the kid home and avoiding the guards, mages, the king spies. Everyone.

Slipping out of the back entrance of his home, James made sure Ultron kept his eyes down and head covered. James had to pretend he was carrying a sack of whatever somewhere. He didn’t think this far ahead yet, but it would have to do while he went to get the boy back to Tony. The other hope, he can or would be able to ask Tony about the magic of the shield of the curse in the woods. Anything to explain the broken memories he had returning to him over the course of the summer.

Stepping down some stone stairs, into the lower part of the town, he stood in the shoulder holding the child closer. He kept his breathing steady as a round of guards walks towards them then past them.

James had to stop himself from laughing as Ultron mumble about them sounding like big dummies talking about him. The kid reminds him too much of Harley and Peter sassing him. He hopes the boys are okay. He really does. He hopes Miss May gets out because she has done nothing wrong. Mrs. Keener, safe wherever she went or where she went to meet with her son and Peter.

The librarian and child hustled past the older houses, the orphanage, and then an old potions house. James tried to answer in the dead of the night about the old houses, the orphanage, and the potions house. Then, difficult hushed questions about Tony. Ones that James didn’t know truly and only something that the young child's father could say.

Hefting Ultron up more, James paused when the clink of metal sounded and the swishing of cloth moved behind him.

Letting his feet guide him, putting a hand on Ultron’s head to keep face down and hidden, the ex-guardsman sped up in walking. He traveled through one-way alleyways. One body long paths. From the corner of his eyes, he felt the ghost speed of wind flurry past him when he was in open space. Keeping a tighter holding Ultron, James found the woods closer. The bright grasses were nearer than before. A swirl of red, a burst of yellow, a splash of white, a drop of blue. Mages. Everywhere.

James wanted to run, but he kept Ultron held close to him as the little boy began shaking under the blanket.

He has to make a break for it. If the Maximoff brother is trying to catch for James to fuck up. He might have is beginning to alert the others or Zola. Probably the King and Zola. No. He can’t imagine what they would do to the boy if they found out he is a tinker boy.

When the 30th gust of wind brushed past James, the librarian ducked and rolled letting the speeding mage fall over. In a blur of panic and running, James sprinted into the woods. He heard the loud wail from the silver-haired child in his ear.

The zaps ringing in his ears, James bobbed and weaved, jumping at a flaming arrow nicking a tree, and to the dirt ground. The flame fizzled out but the intent is clear. Kill James and grab whatever the hell he has, which is a little boy. Damn what he really is.

Jumping over a log, James gritted his teeth at the sharp pain in his side, the smoking blue swirling off the tree.

Letting the pain fueling him, the librarian pushed himself faster twirling around another gust of red and white blast of magic. Fuck magic. Fuck mages. Fuck these people.

James's blue eyes looked at the shimmering of the rainbow iridescent shield. Intent. Good intent. He wants to get Ultron home. He wants to see Tony. He wants to live. He needs to make sure everyone in and past this shield is safe. He wants to ensure the Tony and Ultron see each other.

Hearing another whizz of magic fly above him, bouncing off the shield, James knows that is bad intent, murder is always a terrible reason to use magic. Good intentions prevail in the worse of times.

Side burning, scared child, James ran to the shield feeling the warm fuzz take over him, the glimmering around him, and then the unfolding of the hidden home behind the shield. The hidden paths leading to and from the land of Howard.

Blood rushing through his body and in his brain, James looked up to see Tony flinging the door open, several kids running out after Tony. All familiar or new.

Ultron jumping out of James’s arm with Vision’s toy firmly in his arms, reuniting with his twin. Bubble tears between the two boys. Tony hugging Ultron and Vision afraid something would snatch them up.

Letting out a hiss, James looked to see the teen, Jarvis, patching up his side. Hurried voice to his sister(?) Friday, Friday… the tinkerflier. Oh. Oh! They, all have… human forms. Oh. Oh, oh. Jolting in pain, James looked up to the seven faces of children, young and old. Still much younger than he and Tony.

“T-Thank you… Jarvis?” James met light orange eyes and dark brown hair.

Jarvis nodded, standing by Friday, an orangish pink eye color big and friendly. A toothy grin showing, “Thank you for getting Ultron home. Dad was worried enough to leave to find him.”

“I would have too,” James felt his cheeks heat up but the voice in his head gnashed at the reason he forgot is still unspoken for. Right, not the right moment to ask that, “Thank you… a little surprise… to be seeing you again.”

James, as fast as he has seen the seven kids is as fast as they all disappear. Something in James’s heart broke but made him flare at the words. Was Tony never excepting him to return or find out again? He is a god damn librarian and curious, way too curious for his own good. Damn it.

“I am glad I able to see you again, seeing how my memory of you and this,” James stood rubbing his side gesturing to the house and everything hidden in the shield, “Got obliterated. I am happy I was able to get Ultron back home but damn it, Tony…”

He watches as Tony cringed burying the light behind his coat and kept his eyes lowered, “I know, I know. I… I never thought that the shield even wrecks your memory like that. I… I didn’t set it. Someone I knew did.”

James worked his jaw to form something, anything into words, “You didn’t think to tell me?”

Tony looked him in his eyes, honey brown eyes hardening in stern muted ire, “I didn’t have to tell you. I didn’t have to help you with your damn arm… but I did because you kept my kids safe. My place safe,” The Tinkerman rubbed his face hugging himself, keeping browns away from James’s blues, “I appreciate it, but James, you even being here is putting you in danger.”

“It is my choice, why did you not warn me at least. Why… why did you kiss me to make me forget. I can go and be quiet, I didn’t want to forget.”

“I was serious… about you being in danger. I am sure you saw the queen, she may have told you about being here. Coming here, taking out saving Ultron.”

“She did, but I never been good at taking the request seriously,” Looking at the unruly curly hair and strained eyes, James released his anger by an inch, “Tony… the boys, Harley and Peter,” James hid a lilt of a smile as Tony seem to perk up at the boys' names, “Mentioned to me about pushing through or forgetting. I guess that meant, remembering. And… they left a section…” He pulled the paper out given to him from the young boys to the mechanic.

He watched as big browns widen to doe shape, and a frown working, “What you want?”

“Nothing… I don’t care you are a prince. You are hiding for a reason, Anton… I, okay maybe there is… why or did I forget you?”

Tony looked at James tapping his chest slowly. James saw the tic and a flush to the man’s cheeks, “I kissed you, right. Sometimes the curse only needs skin on skin contact. I mean, I was like may never see you again, I mean you are handsome. Sorry, that was creepy… but, yeah skin contact. The curse makes people forget those who were cursed by it. I was put here young because of the curse. My aunt, queen Maria, hid me here. She has forgotten a few times but over time she remembered. The curse is based on will, the will of the ones who forget. How much they want to remember and why they want to remember. I can’t choose whether you remember me, I can only hope you do or don’t. But since the chances of you forgetting me, them… despite how sad they were,” James blushed more when Tony bit his lip blushing himself, “Or how much fonder I was with adult company, kids and bots, nosey things. You didn’t it. Harley, Peter, the bots, Jarvis, and yourself… sort of broke the curse on, or let go of the memories it was trying to repress. Like the Haze but less. Violent.”

James didn’t like how a curse was fucking with his mind. How it seems to make the man lonelier, or even the intentions that the man knew the curse would have James. Here though, seeing the man who made the candle brighter despite the issue involved with the curse, James felt safe in the shield. Oh, shield. Magic. Wizards. The king.

“Tony… I hate to bring more bad news, but I need to know where Maria went, where the boys went and anyone else. And about… the mages and wizards that attacked me and Ultron.”

At those words, Tony helped James inside his home, into his workshop while the kids, Ultron dressed moving things with Vision, both red and silver metal bodies. Boxes, fabrics, food, months journey of food. This is serious.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

“First,” Tony set down a cup of coffee, for James and himself. James watched the man walk around the workshop pulling out a book and some papers along with the book. Sitting down from across from James, Tony sighed quietly showing a spell and the incantation to activate the spell and curse. Then another paper showing Rhodey, Pepper, Happy, Mrs. Keener, the boys, Maria, and Aunt May. All of their names crossed off except for May’s. James would worry if not for Tony smiling fondly at the papers, “Right, I am going to assume… you know most of these people?”

“I do.” James sipped from his cup, a little excited but worried at the explanation he may get about the other location.

Tony shuffled in his seat before rubbing his neck, then his chest sighing out loud, the dark circles under his eyes noticeable, “I sent them to my mother and Wakanda. My mother and the king of Wakanda's mother are friends. Imagine the embarrassment that those two can get me and him into.” James watches him pull out a detailed image of the land that was also said to be of legends. A type of lost city of knowledge and havens of havens, “Rhodey, was the first I sent there. I saw the strain and the worry about him keeping me safe and his position away from the kids. Then, Pepper and Happy, made seem like they were going to start a family. Needed bigger land. Pepper would have been forced to wed one of the guards and he would be able to escort anywhere. She wanted out before it happens for everyone's safety. Happy, couldn’t work with Howard and he was afraid he being planned to get murdered by someone in the castle grounds.”

James swallowed seeing how things were falling in place, why each person left without a trace and no letters sent, “The boys and Mrs. Keener?”

“Safe, sent to my mother’s and aunt’s land. It is a three months journey. If the land yields to be kind and the weather continues to stay fair. It has been 5 years in the planning and sending. All of this. As soon as I turned 21, was the full swing of everything.” Tony rubbed his chest again, rubbing right over the light, eyes peering through the glass panes of color, past the trees and beyond.

James looked to where the obvious genius found prince stared out. He saw the desire there, a desire to run and be free, “You are last to leave, you and the kids then?”

“Bingo.” Tony gave James a soft but sharp smile, fingers lacing together, “I will be honest with you Giaco… you threw a lot of things out of whack but… you also helped a lot. My worry now is, will you be safe? Howard won’t stop till you speak…”

“Or I forget again,” James added seeing how he is worried, either way, it is his life or it is Tony’s possible. This means the mages were brought in to find Tony. Shit, and that means he may have led the fucking council here.

“Shit… Tony,” James started but Tony shook his head caressing James’s stubble face with his thumb. Bright browns gentle and the heat from early returned but not at him.

“It was only a matter of time. Only a matter of time that those mages found this place. Wish I was gone by now but, what can you do.” James blushed more when the man's hand lifted off his cheek. He didn’t feel the inkling of forgetting but he also felt a ghost whisper of a demand to let everything slip into a fog trying to reclaim him. He refuses though. Now more than ever, he refuses, “I don’t think you’ll forget either Giaco.”

“I… I don’t want to.” That is all James could get out when a Tinkerwheel, with the bright orange and bluish light wheeled in. The worry beeping and steaming, had Tony up and out of his seat. The shoulders in the man dropped as the sound of a heavy sigh filled the quiet workshop room.

“Jarvis and Dum-E, this Dum-E by the way,” Tony patted the little tinkerwheel gently, as he looked at James. James nodded his head in greeting as the chocolate-haired man watch the Tinkerwheel roll out of the room. The sound of metal shifting and bright cheery voice squealed out but then turned worried, “The high council is coming.”

James stood up after that reaching over to the Tinkerman, holding his wrist gently. He caught the man’s attention, pouring all the apologies he could. He ran all the way here, trying to get Ultron home, not realizing that he should have tried to shake them off his trail, “Tony, I am sorry… I… ran here. I didn’t think to shake them off my trail before getting in here. Now… it is…”

He listened to Tony letting out a hum, then callused strong fingers wrapped around James’s wrist. James felt his cheeks flush as Tony stepped into his space, “Can you help me?”

“Anything.” James followed Tony out of the workshop, the coffee was forgotten.

Heading towards the back of the home, he watched as Tony and the tinkers and boys get the things into the stagecoach. There was no horse to see of. He wonders how they would get out of here without a horse.

As if seeing what James is asking, Tony whispered gesturing there were horses out in the back.

A younger girl, with pigtails, hair curly like Tony’s came running in holding Vision’s hand tight, “The mages! They cracked the shield papa!”

James jumped as Tony murmured a shit. The worry about the shield descending, revealing the very thing it is hiding from the outside world. James hurried along with instructions about leaving things for Miss May.

“I need to see the kids and tinkers off first,” Tony mumbled in a rushed blow of air. James felt his hand drag him out to the back where two horses stood waiting. Both pure black in color, feet stamping. The nerves that are racing within the shield. James can see the blow of yellow scattering against the shield. Lights flashing an array of colors. Lighting up in Tony’s and his own eyes, he was sure of it.

“Let me help you getting the kids sent off.”

“What about your side?” Tony asked seeing another crack spiderweb along the curve of the bubble. Reds, blues, yellows, blacks, greens, whites, all flashing against the shield. The council raining down on them to get The Tinkerman, the child, and James.

“I will be fine. I want to make sure the kids get out first. Come on.” James pulled Tony back over to the horse getting attached to the cart, the kids being settled in, all but one. Ultron.


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

“I got the others, Anthony, you go get Ultron I will get the others settled,” James spoke in a hurry. He felt a gust of wind slip through his hair. A herald of magic, the intent behind the magic was nothing good.

He grunted through the stinging in his bandaged side. He lifted up the three kids, he can only assume Dum-E and his brother and sister in the cart. He made sure they were settled and wouldn’t come out. Next was Friday. She climbed through the cart.

James helped one of the youngest up, being Vision. He looked around not seeing Jarvis. He kept his sharp eyes trying to see or find the eldest boy among the flashing lights, dark skies above the head, and the beginning of a rushing wind.

Hurrying around the corner, James jumped back seeing a whizz of green crack through the shield. Looking out he saw several green and blue eyes glowing. Hands glowing brighter, getting ready to aim again. Ducking his head when the other mages exclaiming seeing the librarian. The long-haired brunette double-timed it to find Jarvis.

Running down the path, to the shed he found Jarvis dragging a bag of too the shed. The door wide open and a secret storage door opened wide.

Lifting the bag from the teen, ignoring a huff of annoyance, James jutted his chin to the cart, “You get it in there and wait for Tony.”

“I need to get the food in there Mr. Barnes,” Jarvis replied.

Both males stepped back from each other when a sharp line of blue and white vortex into the shield, burning the grass. Turning a patch in a dark circle. James looked out seeing Fury and Nat, standing next together. James would be upset but he already guessed that Nat was up to something. Working the wizards, made sense. He wonders if there is an after if he could trust her again.

Looking away from the broken wall, he heard Tony running out looking panicked. Getting Jarvis to hurry to the cart, the ex-guardsman ran over to the worried male who beginning to shout out for the young boy's name, “Tony!”

“I can’t find him! He was in the house. Shit, James, he was in the house.”

James pulled Tony close as a red wisp exploded a little ways off him. The shield, from what James can tell, isn’t going to last much longer. If James could say and the way Tony began shaking, it would be sooner than later, “The last place Tony.”

He saw Tony's eyes focused on the shield, eyes big and worried. Forcing the shorter male to get his big browns back on James’s own icy blues, he asked the question to the tinkerer.

“Ah, um, he always liked… oh! I know where he is!”

“Find him, get him, and I will send you off,” James answered to the excited male, despite the deep panic that the smart male is exhibiting.

“Oh I can kiss y—” Tony shoved both of them to the ground as an orange circled sliced through the air, jutting out of the wall before blinking away, “you… they really want to kill me.”

Not staying on the kissing, despite the candle brighter than lights happening all around them, “They want Ultron more than you might want your head. Mine, likely.” James scrambled to get himself and Tony up, firmly on the ground. He moved the man inside going back to the cart making sure all the kids were together still. They had all the food. All the water needed for the three-month journey, at most.

James was worried about what would happen to Tony after, to his memories after this. He wasn’t sure what anything entails after everything is done. James knows he would be brought before the king for questioning, probably accused of treason and all that extra shit. Then, if Natasha would grace herself to him before he gets executes, her reasons for working with the mages. Of course, he has no right to ask about her life and activities.

A heads up would be nice, here though, he was sure she would accuse him of not speaking about what he knew. Again, he would argue, he couldn’t on grounds she is working with the mages and wizards that were hired by Howard to kill a man, his son! And a child, his grandchild. Damn the tinker parts. Oh sweet heavens, this was ugly as all the dancer insides.

The cracking of glass that was the shield altered James to several things, the shield fell, like the shimmer of colorful glass rain down only dissolve into drying water. Ultron, running out holding a letter, running towards him holding a small vial. James saw Tony's mouth moving his legs moving and a bolt of black and red bolting out.

Like a ragdoll, Ultron's head lolled over and he dropped. James raced to grab the boy for any part of him fell causing more problems. The silver hair already matting with red. Then another drop of a body and kids screaming. Tony's eyes sparkling blue. James's mouth dropped as the mages who were descending upon them stopped in mid-flight, float, and walk. For one in mid-run.

Turning his head over to the kids still running, all with big tears and Friday reciting Jarvis fell over as he was getting out of the cart and Vision toppled over. James anxiously looked over to Tony as he lifted the young child from his arms.

Nimble fingers swirled over Ultron's head, as the skin faded and metal shifted back into place. The sparking of electric blue popping before fading. For all the shifting, the way the kids sniffled, he listened to Tony’s quiet instructions to taking Jarvis in the cart and keeping Vision upright.

Optics that are bright red, were black and empty. As if he was sleep. James made a pained noise reaching to touch the boy's head feeling a strong grip on his metal wrist, “Thank you… for catching him…”

“W-Will he be okay?” James breathed out his throat twitching. He felt the strong grip let go as his metal fingers brushed over the hairless smooth texture, “Will he… wake up?”

Tony shrugged, looking overly unsure of himself, “I-I don’t know… Jarvis, gave half his life to keep their lives running…”

“What?” James wheezed out, seeing the blue sparks fade and the blues in the man's eyes fade back to brown.

“…Jarvis shared his life force to keep Ultron and Vision alive. They are… connected. I don’t know how or why Ultron and Vision attached themselves to each other… but they did. They were caught in a rainstorm. Ultron was in his metal form… and he shorted out. Vision followed not too long after. It was only when I and Jarvis found the boys, that was when… Jarvis asked me to give them some of his life force.” Tony rubbed his cheek with his shoulder holding the child closer to his body. James rubbing the man shoulder gently, thumb circling. Though he still had his eyes on the young tinker boy in Tony’s arms, “After that, they always felt some type of pain if one got hurt. Which why Jarvis was and is so protective… but I-I don’t know if they can come back from this. It was at the head… and...”

James pulled Tony close, gentle of the child as the man heaved out a sob, “If the heavens are kind and just… they will be okay Tony.”

James felt the warm breath against his chest and the tensing in the other’s shoulder, “Revealing so much about myself today…” The tinkerer replied humorlessly.

The ex-guardsman and the Tinkerman looked at the frozen mages and wizards, then the sleeping, hopefully sleeping, metal child, “How… long did you know magic?”

“As long as I knew how to build. I was a little reckless… which how most of my kids were able to change forms from tinkers to human. Vision loves being in his flesh… Ultron not so much… he really started to embrace his flesh because of Vision. Jarvis followed soon after. Then the triplets and last Friday. Switching with ease now too.” James caught the man looking at him then at the mages, “they wrecked the shield… for a child. What the belly dancer bile.”

“Yeah, for a child. Pretty insane.”

“They… broke the shield. Now, I don’t think even the curse would work properly either.”

At that, James blinked long and slow then back at the only line where the shield once stood strong and proud, “The shield was producing the curse, the forgetting.”

“To protect me. My tinkers. From Howard. He… knew about me. Or may have had hints. Stane, my aunt told me, had suspicious I was getting ready to move. Getting ready to step into the world. The missing crowned prince and genius man or something.”

“Ready to take the throne, throwing the land into a brighter year,” James spoke, of something recitation of another version of a story. He heard the adults speak of that story before the legend got twisted into something evil.

Tony chuckled quietly, “The Tinkerman story, was told by my momma and my aunt told the other kids and young adults. Then… it spiraled. My father… couldn’t handle… that I was different. So, I vanished.”

“Missing.”

“Taken and killed by the Tinkerman. Bringing forth a curse to land that made people forget. Truly, the curse made the adults forget that the king and his right-hand man walked a young child into the woods left there.” Tony grunted out standing up with Ultron, “Aunt Maria and Yinsen, saved me, shielded me from Howard and Stane's gaze. Anyone else too. Cursing the land as so no one can speak of seeing me or hearing from me. It stretched to the things I touched getting the curse affects… and the rest you know.”

James nodded standing up with him. He looked at the frozen sky, the trees, birds and mages. All stuck in a loop in whatever radius that Tony set them up to be in. This man has James’s candle but he can’t for the wick to stay with the melting wax. Tony is such a long wick. The longest wick. A wick to a new candle, a new candle, and so forth. He didn’t want Tony to be in trouble or hurt. Grabbed by a man who wanted dead more than anyone else. His father as well.

“You gotta go.” James breathed out. Heard a move of head and a burning intense gaze on his face. He already can hear the fierce _no_ from the male.


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

“No,” Tony mumbled out looking back at James. Hard brown eyes narrowed on him but the hold on Ultron never relinquishing on the boy in his arms.

James followed Tony to the cart with the other kids and two passed-out boys. Both in metal and tinker forms. Not moving. Still. Too still to be made from a man like Anthony. James stood next to Anthony as the tinkerer made sure the horses were pointed on the straight path and he was giving detailed instructions to Friday.

“Tony, you have to go,” James spoke after Friday sniffled her way to letting go of her father and creator.

Tony whipped around on him, fist clenching and shoulders ramrod straight, “No. What about you James? What about the house. I can’t… I can’t uproot you and I can’t let you get in trouble. They’ve seen you helping the kids. They’ve seen me. I can’t get the kids or others hurt because they were after me. I can make a decoy of Ultron. Just a fake doll.”

Grabbing on the man's wrists gently, James frowned looking at him, “Anthony, you have to go. Make sure Ultron, Vision, and Jarvis wake to your face. Make sure that the triplets don’t run out looking for you. That Friday is okay. I will be fine.”

“You won’t.” Tony threw back jaw-clenching eyes averted away from James's gaze.

“And? I rather you and the tinker kids get out of this land safe. Unfollowed. Help me help you, Anthony.” He slid his hands to the other’s rough hand rubbing smooth circles on the hands. With both thumbs, warm flesh, and cool metal, “I will be fine.”

Tony frowned at James before he nodded pulling his hands away. Unlcenched and loose at his sides, “Giacomo,” The accent that James hears on occasion strong when saying that name, a presumable variant to his name, “If you are sure… that vial,” James opened his hand seeing a vial of clear baby blue liquid, like the sky, “Is a forget-me-not potion, Ultron went to get it. The time that the potion lasts is unknown. Only drink it if you think it will help you or if you want to forget this crazy night. If you are sure, this helps you.”

“If I forget?” James measured. He saw a subdue tick on the man’s handsome face.

“You have good intentions and a big heart. Willful and stubborn,” Tony pressed his lips against James’s. James remembered the first time, he pressed back afraid he would awaken in bed to nothing but a wild dream. Pulling back he blushed more hearing some of the kids giggling and Tony’s own bright cheeks burning in the night, “You will be fine. And sorry about kissing you suddenly but I might not see you again… after this.”

James chuckled even though his heart clench, knowing that depending on how the potion reacts and his own person, he might forget Anthony for an unknown amount of time. Yet, letting him stay here and face Howard when James can lie or something, he makes sure the small family gets out of this land safe.

“I understand.”

Anthony nods, sliding into the seat, he leaned over as James tilt his head down. He felt the lips press at the corner of his mouth again. Both blushing furiously, “One more for the road. And, the further I get out, the more the Terminate spell will release its hold on those caught within or was targeted. It is a big radius.”

James nodded again pushing the curls back in Anthony’s hair seeing a faint smile. Stepping back, he heard the man tell the kids to hold on. With a crack at the reins, he watches the cart speed off into the night. Knowing he only has so much time before the others unfreeze.

First, he dragged dirt over the track marks or trying to make them as old as they could. Next, he took fire to the home starting from the top to bottom. The vial in his pants pocket. Pack swinging as he made sure everything was secured. Then, he pulled his notes, his book, everything he wrote about Anthony and his family. He tore a page from his mother, she had written to him. Folding it putting it back his pack throwing the old book into the rising flames. Last he uncorked the vial, drank the tasteless potion and the mages began moving.

James sat watching the flames, as the mages fluttered around him, all trying to see what is there to see. They asked him what he has seen, asking why he was in the shield. James looked around, he felt the nagging sensation he knew but he couldn’t put his tongue on it. He didn’t know. He remembers he was home and next he is here, watching the flames alight the night. Casting long shadows of something whimsical long gone. He believes this was whimsical.

He greeted Natasha but she had a look like she knew something. Natasha always knows something but of course that something was a secret to Natasha only. He greeted the rest of the mages with respect, asking if he was in trouble or was to be put to death.

Surprisingly they all said no. Some of them whispered that he must have burned the home down and the shield was a powerful illusion cast by someone. James looked to Loki, the man who is known for his illusions and mischievous tricks, who didn’t speak a word about what happened here.

James looked at the eyes of Natasha, Fury, Loki, and Strange. All standing there with knowing eyes. James wondered what they knew and he didn’t. Standing up, he felt something clenched in his hands. Opening his hand up slightly, he looked to see an empty vial. Looking back to the roaring flames, James stared at the smoke swirling into the night. Embers flying away. Somewhere deep down in his person, James felt an ache once more. Shaking himself free of the ache, he turned, adjusted his pack, and bid the mages a goodbye. A see you tomorrow to Natasha, heading back to his home.

James stared out the window, after closing a book about a little goblin man who wanted to take a woman’s baby. Because they had a deal, and the baby was special. A lot of kids asked what happened to Peter and Harley, he didn’t know. He was also asked where Aunt May went too. James can only assume she went out to search for Peter. He offered to help, but the woman had a knowing smile. He got a thank you but the older woman left to look on her own.

The mages have gone. They conducted their work where they could. Spoke about what they saw, they couldn’t bring James in because he was utterly confused about how he got there. The Tinkerman’s home lit ablaze. How was that possible? Maybe someone built a home to cause a frenzy in the kingdom, which successful.

Steve asked if he was over the story. James wasn’t but he doesn’t know where his book is and the ripped-out page with his mother's written words as he had left of the book.

The vial in his home had a little forget-me-not flower growing beautiful in his windowsill, even when the cooler months were arriving. It kept the blossom open and proud. He knows it will eventually. He knows this. This past summer proved interesting but his memories surrounding was for naught. Even Natasha would not say but of course, she was secretive about everything. The library was moving through it daily paces.

All in all, James felt the tingle in the back of his mind when he looks at the flower in the vial.

Several Months Later…

Summer, early Summer returned to the land. The king was still cruel and grouchy. The kingdom a little glummer. His memories returned during the cold winter months and the tingling feeling in his brain stopped. The ache in his heart returned when he realized he may never see the kids, Anthony, or even know if Jarvis and the twins are okay. His heart went out to them. The hope that the heavens are looking out for them on the long journey. That they made it.

It was there in his home, after days of work, gathering new supplies for a cooler home was when a letter was on his table and a little flier, that looked to be brand new. Newly-made. Resting on the table.

Closer James got to the new tinkerflier, the faster his heart raced. There the letter was addressed to him, a seal of something over his status, covered in a scent of metal and a sweet exotic fruit. Like his plums and the berries, he had eaten through the summer of last year.

Picking up the letter, he saw the flier blade begin to spin and the lifting of the machine body gaining height. At face level, the flier let off a light blue to electric blue glow. A beating pulsing till a young-sounding voice emitted, “Hello.”

Holding back a flinch, James looked at the letter then the flier, “Hello, I can only guess, Anthony, made you?”

“Yes, Nivi might like me, he might want a friend. Father spoke those words many times.” The flier spoke promptly but the tone sounded unsure.

James felt his cheeks burning red as the flier did a small sway back and forth till it lowered itself down, “What should I call you? Since you know who I am.” The librarian hummed out rubbing the edges of the letter, seeing the pristine that it carries. He wonders how the young tinker flier got it.

“Vito.”

James read the letter, the details inside were heartwarming, reassuring, and comforting. Most off to know that the potion was made by Ultron to ensure if he ever returns he can forget temporarily until things were safe. All of the tinker kids were smart. With the added details and functions that Vito has, he has the same switching type ability as the others. However, Vito appears as the youngest of the bunch, a mere one year looking. Biggest baby blues, a delicate blend of unruly curls and straight lines. Something of a woodsy feel but truly all him. Lightest of the tinker kids but still so intuitive. Even though the letter spoke of the scares, the ins, and outs of the journey. One thing was clear, James has not forgotten Anthony and them for long. His candle was not burned out. Sam, ironically was there. All near close to each other.

Heavens were kind to James. The only thing that made James think as he slipped the letter in his pack, a new story he picked up, and the paper with his mother’s handwriting. A personally written note on when Vito arrived. A birthday of sorts.

James held Vito in his arms as he stared out, past the houses, past the shadows of the castle, to the green, green grasses, through the woods, and out… to wherever a new venture is.

The letter had the answer, a place. A location. A direction.

Follow Polaris, veer towards the constellations of great falls and the island of turtles. North, then North-North West. If he chooses to come.

The answer was simple. Vito had siblings to see and James was ready to leave. Telling Vito this, they began gathering clothes, blankets, food, and a horse with the selling of the home that James kept. Had all the books ready to be loaded, used a jewel or two to get a cart. Things packed and Vito excitedly ready. No one truly asked the strange pretty child latched onto the librarian. There were orphans living here in the kingdom, he hopes that changes. One day.


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The day that James is leaving, is the day that started him on his investigation on the legend. On a quest to learn about the real Tinkerman, about the missing prince, and why the king was so bitter.

He gave Steve the sketched portrait of their family before they all drifted off or forgotten they had a family.

The curse of the land faded when the shield protecting Anthony dissolved. Howard's chokehold on the kingdom was still vast, so it made it prudent for James to leave as he had a tinker child with him, not that others needed to know.

He gave Natasha the keys to the library and told the section he, himself found in the archive. He knows she will know what to do with that information. A scandal in the kingdom, a long mystery to be solved and the regaining needed. He gave Clint and his old coworkers a soldier salute and send off.

All this was done why Vito stayed hidden on the cart, behind a pile of books and food. James looked at Steve who was getting watery eyes.

“Stevie…”

“You jerk… is it because… I didn’t believe you about—”

“No, Steve, you are fine. I need a change. A brand new start. Something where I won’t be looked at like I am up to something no good. Greener pastures.”

Steve hugged James tight, as the librarian returned a tighter hug, “You write me damn it.”

“I promise. Don’t do stupid shit.”

“I have Peggy, Carol, and Natasha to make sure we don’t stupid shit.” Steve countered as he let out a watery laugh.

James chuckled patting his friend and brother on the back. Giving the blonde a gentle squeeze, he looked the other blue-eyed male in the eyes, “Be careful of Stane. Got it?” He gave the blond guardsman a look, something spoke volumes between the two. He got a hard nod, a reassurance to making sure that whatever is asked or suggested is taken seriously.

Another quick round hugs, threats to write them, James got into the cart, clicking his tongue at the mare to move along.

Vito crawled through the opening of the cart, sitting by James nibbling on a piece of bread. Little brown pants and a clean shirt, bare feet swinging. Big eyes taking in the surroundings, wide fields, distant mountains, and woodlands. The miles of flowers and wild plants. James himself took in the scenery feeling a type of giddiness. A height of Summer and the breeze that entered their old home caressed through their hair. Brought cool winds in the heightened summer sun.

Past the houses.

Onto the green, green grasses.

Through the swaying flowers.

Out of the woods.

Into something new.

Three months travel was more of a two-month journey, as the rode took seem kinder to those traveling. The towns they passed were kind, to help to make sure they were on track. Vito enjoying talking to everyone in heavily accented tones.

James found it interesting that people in these new lands recognize the almost dead accent in his voice and the heavy accent in Vito's voice. The people of Sicili have the accents of silk where the people of Wakanda have accents of jewels.

Remembering how Anthony’s accent is and Vito’s, James can understand the silk part of sweetness when it was Vito speaking. He can’t say much of Wakanda.

The people of those lands, the king and the people ruling of the land Tony hails from were kind and just rulers. The far opposite of Howard's iron rule.

James started taking notes, getting help from Vito through the trip. Things he learned, the experiences he picks up along the way. All learning about the lands he never got to really learn in the kingdom, days, weeks behind him and his little Tinkerflier.

By the end of the journey, James and Vito stopped upon a little mage shop. Little actually is putting this shop lightly. There is smoke pluming out of the chimney stacks. The windmill turning gently. A wooden and metal fence wrapped around the shop backyard.

A simple sign saying Tinkers and Potions. A blue light shining proudly. The gold handle with red-stained windows reflecting the afternoon sun. Vito asleep on the cart seat. His horse, Winifred, eating calmly.

Knocking on the door, James made sure the cart was nearby. He looked a little past the mage home, in the little half days out journey, at most a small kingdom and village stood tall and proud. Nothing overtaking the other.

There when the door open, James stepped back seeing Sam and Rhodey walkout, both blinking at James. James for his part gave both of them a relieved and grateful smile. He heard the distant laughing from what sounds like Peter and Harley. Both talking about their guardians. Meaning May got here safe and sound. He figured she would, she is a strong woman. His only worry now is the boys and Jarvis.

Waving a quick bye to the rejoined couple, ignoring the teasing glances and mouthed out replies of catching up later. The ex-librarian turned to see Anthony standing there holding a cloth, eyes big and disbelieving.

Before either could say anything, Vito ran through, waking up possibly, and out the back. James felt his lips pull in a mirror image fond smile as Anthony watch the baby blue eye boy toddle over to the ones out in the back.

The long-haired brunette turned back to the curly-haired male, giving him a small smile, “Hey.”

“You came.” Anthony breathed out a little surprised at seeing him at all.

“Couldn’t stay away. I am a little stubborn. A little bullheaded. Tenacious. All with good intentions.”

“Far too much strong will.” Anthony chuckled, James, blushing at the heavier accent that the must be regaining from being home again, “Strong, being the driving force to your will… Giacomo.”

James smiled a little more pushing a bang back, “I might need work, to get a place to live out here… anything I can help with?”

He grinned at the hearty laugh that came from The Tinkerman, as he ushered him into the mage shop. A shimmer of blue shutting the door gently.


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20-Epilogue

_'There was a kingdom that had a couple who were deeply in love. A love that was not deeper than the crimes that were down in the shroud of darkness. The king who was in love had other plans and intentions of never giving up his throne. The king messed up when the queen’s sister had a young babe. A baby not from the queen, but enough blood to pass off as their own. No one there to witness. To avoid the queen's sister raging war to get the young baby back, the king threatens to harm the queen and baby. With the urge to keep them safe, she agreed._

_It was not for when the young boy showed promise in the arts of magic and the building of man is when the king truly fear, that the boy was the light to burn him away from his rule._

_He could allow that, so on the advice of his closest right-hand man, the king, and the man snuck off into the night when the boy only was 5 into the woods. Left the boy after hurting the young child within the inch of his life._

_It was thanks to the queen and a brilliant mage that they were able to save the young boy. It took all the mage had to give the boy the chance to live. A star, one of the brightest things in the sky. There was when the star of Polaris was born in the boy. A guiding point for a better tomorrow or so the queen said._

_Having the young boy alive was not enough or safe, so the queen, with the help of her sister from the land far yonder, set the shield of mirrors. A fog that swept the land into forgetting who they were and what they were looking for. Only those strong-willed remembers anything beyond the initial passes._

_The shield grew strong along with the boy who grew into being a young man. A man who was old enough to create a throne but old enough to be considered a villain. Twisted by the king and advisor’s wicked ways._

_There was a stupid man, a man spurred on by children that led him to uncover the truth behind the lost prince and the tinkerer. This foolish man followed a candle around the mystery. Avoided the pits, jumped the line between forgetting to keep his memories._

_This man was so stupid that he lied to the king, drank a vial to forget to keep the ones in the shield of mirrors safe from harm._

_What happened to the foolish man and the lost prince, some say they got married. Others say the foolish man turned the tinkerer in for the crimes he did not. And few say that they are happy in whatever fashion they choose to be.'_

“Giacomo,” Anthony hummed out brushing away a curl from his forehead smearing grease, “You are telling kids stories again?”

James chuckled leaning back as the youngest children whined about not finishing the story. The man leaned over kissing Anthony getting a riot of ‘ _yucks_ ’ from the children. Some smiled, “A little bit.”

“Mhm, finish up, dinner will be done soon and your friends are arriving too soon,” Anthony hummed out hugging around James’s neck brushing his stubble and beard against James’s cheeks.

Holding back a shuddering laugh, James tugged Anthony gently into his lap pressing a cheek kiss earning a quiet hum, “Where was I… right…”

_‘Let say they were married. Happily married._

_What of the king and the advisor. They were caught. Their crimes have shown true, evidence mounting, and in the King's own vile temper revealed the ruse. The plight that put the kingdom into the shadows._

_The news of the crumbling kingdom reached far and wide, all the way to the Tinkerman who was now a prince in his own land and a humble citizen and the foolish man who grinned at the Heavens bring forth the justice that was so needed._

_The Tinkerman made beautiful things. The foolish man loved looking at the beautiful things. Their kids, are beautiful as well.’_

James finished the story, he wrote out for the anniversary he and his husband got together. He got a mewled-out _sap_ from the man relaxing on his lap. Then he heard Friday speaking to someone at the door. Anthony moving, and then Steve, Natasha, and Carol at opening way. Anthony and Stevie communicating in simple civility. Nat and Anthony were courteous as usual. Last Carol and Anthony giving each other a full-body hug.

Standing up, he gave Steve a handshake than a one-armed hug. A handshake from knight and last a shoulder punch from Carol. All three wishing James and Anthony a happy 5 year anniversary.

The first two years, when James was out here, living here Steve didn’t understand and Natasha was seething. Here though, he explained that his husband was a prince, is a prince. His father trying to kill him. The idea that Howard could be so cruel to leave a child to die, James will always remember that. Will remember how cruel one individual could be. James reassured them that he was not being held hostage or being forced to work with Anthony. That was one of the rockier years as everyone gout the true story and accounts from the king's lips. The harsh words spilled from Anthony and Steve hurting them both.

Anthony fuming at all of them for chasing after a child. One check proved he was not hurt as the young boy trotted over to Vision cuddling his brother close. All look uncomfortable with the implications they would be killing not just one kid but multiples. Future aches will ease over time.

Besides the negatives, the positive outweighs those negatives in James’s life.

James smiled more blushing a little as he watched Jarvis and Friday push a decent size cake out. Vision and Ultron helping Vito with the cake slicing. The triplets presenting their presents to Anthony and himself.

Anthony kissed James’s chin, as his arms looped around his waist loving, “I love you Nivi.”

Kissing Anthony’s head gently, James hummed out, “Love you too, Tinkerman.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my first intermission Chapter story. There were some bumps because I trying to incorporate a different James and Tony but keeping things similar to how I have in my current AU. Soooo, sorry if things were messy. I hope you all enjoyed this. I have a lot more intermission stories and different AUs of the AU. 
> 
> The next story is a little bit more dark or dark to where I can make it. Might be bad timing, but I will do a warning just in case for all who doesn't want to read it. 
> 
> Again, thank you. :)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this little switch of a universe, and I hope you like it. An actual chapter will be out soon.
> 
> ISoEAU could be called AUEAU


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